by Albert Huffstickler

I am concerned
with the fragility
of all that's mortal --
especially me.

Sometimes all options
come down to:
keep up the act
or give up the ghost.

I can't tell
if I'm in
my decline
or my recline.

Given a choice,
said one member of
the Light Brigade, I'd just as soon
achieve immortality
without getting
my ass shot off.

You want to experience
life on the edge?
Try getting old.

It was a French dream
with Japanese subtitles.

Some days
every noise
makes me jump.
Silence
makes me jump too.

As I approach her in years,
I think more of my mother,
of a certain tottering gallantry
with which she walked
the tightrope of this earth.

How everything assumes
for a moment
a certain clarity --
as though the very
veil of consciousness
had been removed.

My rent goes up
in September.
Am I living on
a fixed income
or a fixed outgo?

If everything goes
according to plan,
I'll get up in a minute
and go home.