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.
...
While they sleep the unmolested
Before the nth dilapidated
Token, bidden, chosen, broken hymen, stalking semen
Men for women
...
Our meeting was a secret
At the same time never met
You heard me sing
I heard you talk
...
let me shed the hate
that ill applies to anger although consummate
unluckily discerned by trinity and bred
by esoteric tragedies and irregular neglect
...