A Toast to the New Year

[Erthona]

Well that would be difficult as I no longer write poetry. I think this was one of the last ones I wrote before Erthona took over. He says I'm too old fashioned and just plain too old, as well as have little creativity, which is probably true. If I were to write a poem about New Years now, it would not be pretty, something like (and this is just off the top of my head):

Screw New Year.

Another year closer to the grave:
another year of pain and humiliation:
another year without hope of a better future,
nor a youthing type of salvation.
It all gets worse from here.
Another New Year to remind me
I no longer have a trim and muscular body
that can handle drinking and dancing all night;
no longer able flirt with girls and they reciprocate
instead of screaming and running away
(not that it matters, couldn't do much with one if I had her).
Screw your Happy New Year,
there's nothing happy about it for me,
nor does it seem new or the least complete.
Just a repeat of last year and the year before.
Trying to sleep and being kept awake
by the fireworks going off in the street
or somewhere close around.
Don't go wishing me Happy New Year;
here, there's no happiness to be found.


dale winter 2015