Final years sucks bilge water!
Nothing but perpetual panic—
lots of crying and fear of dying,
with atrophied muscles, brain
and libido—no sitting, standing,
or walking on ossified bones
without pain.
Barnacled skin, eyes dim,
no money is not funny.
Pee dribbles, breath stinks,
teeth and hair fall out,
memory shot with the balm
of dementia and drive a car
as if you were Helen Keller.
You’re a sailboat adrift.
Since you’re going to die soon,
do something useful—
volunteer for the Mossad,
and do targeted assassinations
of the most vicious anti-Semites
before leaving your one and only life.