When I was a baby   I could close the world up   In fleshy pink mitts   Now the world flays the infant palms   And the bones drip out in its spit      When I was small   I reached up so high   And grasped at the morning star   Now the wormwood topples down on me   And smashes all my parts      When I was a child   My bones spread out   Like peacock feathers alive   Now the feathers wilt like cancerous boils   Leaving sagging pores in my hide      When I was of age   I saw a gate so wide   And a path so broad for the taking   But the road to everything led to a cliff   Where I sprawled out naked and aching      Now that I’m old I see the light   And I see it was never there   Everything leads to nothing nowhere   And I don’t even care