Someday When You Are Old

Someday when you are old
Sitting in wet Depends
Gazing upon the stacks
Of newspapers forming
A maze through your living room

Think of a girl who loved
You, whose face lit up when she saw
You. A girl who made you laugh.
She gave you her heart and you
Let it slide through your hands

Till it landed on the ground where
You danced on it like Michael Flatley.

Think of that girl you knew
Consider well your choice
As you wait, drenched in your own piss,
For this month’s Hustler to arrive.