I celebrated my sixtieth centenary twice. On October 25, at a party thrown by my wonder of a wife, and on the actual day, October 28. Both bashes were made highly successful by the presence of friends who shared our blessings and the attendant bliss.
Unpremeditated, just a reflexive blink,
Was not as startled as the glitter of grime
Against the sun-streaked light.
...
let me shed the hate
that ill applies to anger although consummate
unluckily discerned by trinity and bred
by esoteric tragedies and irregular neglect
...
Our meeting was a secret
At the same time never met
You heard me sing
I heard you talk
...
While they sleep the unmolested
Before the nth dilapidated
Token, bidden, chosen, broken hymen, stalking semen
Men for women
...