Old people can’t write poetry.
Only those who think and live and feel
and praise and swear and fight and love
and give birth to babies can give birth to poems.
Not old people. No dear old lady living in
retirement with a shawl around her shoulders, living
among others with shawls around their shoulders,
waiting for the mailman, the cleaning lady, the paper boy,
the maintenance man, the excursion to the Mall,
the visitor from out of the past, writes poetry. Why not?
Because people say so. Those who carry the world
on their shoulders, and bring flowers and words of cheer
and advice to little old ladies and gentlemen say so.
They are young or at least not yet old,
and could write poetry if they wanted to. They know.
We laugh and we agree.
After all, Dear Old Folks like us are Senior Citizens
who should be respected for our years
and given a Discount.
But we can’t write Poetry. That’s a known fact.