wrinkles

“Age is not a particularly interesting subject. Anyone can get old. All you have to do is live long enough.” -Groucho Marx

the wrinkles on your own hands

 

(no matter how many lotions you have rubbed on them, no

matter how much vitamin e oils, no matter how many

antioxidants you consume---all in the attempt to stall or

at least slow down the process)

 

glare

up

at

you.

 

the small mountains rippling along your epidermis, the

glycating process oxidizing everything, the cortisol

produced as your own body’s frantic reaction to the

everyday stressors of your chosen life---all finally add

up---

and there they are,

plain as day---

wrinkles---

those imperfections specific to you alone,

but which you simultaneously share with

every being still breathing---

those marks of age which signal the

beginning of the

end---

depressions,

furrows,

the scrunching & the

shriveling, the

folds & the

crinkling contracted corrugations---

all scream at you in unison

silently, but alas,

deadly still,

that you are mortal &

that if you own a pug or a

shar pei,

it is true what they say about pet owners & their pets

(that they begin to look like one another)---

and it will only increase,

as you both get older---

just do you best to keep your

barking to a minimum when you are

outdoors amongst the rest of

us.