Trick Stirs

“My brain is playing tricks on me”

We say. But, you know, the older we get,

The more body parts get involved

In the trickery. One trick stirs

Another. The skin

Decides we need new constellations

In the form of deflated-balloon skin tags, and

Then the hair, the skin’s epithelial partner,

Says “New fashion statement coming up:

Recessional Follies

Featuring Silverthread Sadie

And Thinny Minnie!”

Then the Gout Beast quiesces

For three days after that naughty  McFlurry

Chased with three-sigar coffee,

And on the fourth day chooses a new home,

The Pinky-Toe joint, alchemizing humility

Into agony…

Whoa. What was I just saying?

My brain is laying bricks on me . . .