When I Am Old

by Moyra Donaldson

I'll have dewlaps and a hump and say what all the time

in a cross voice: on every one of my bony crony fingers

a ring. My lips painted with a slash of bright fuchsia,

I'll drink margaritas by the tumbler full and if my dealer

dies before I do, I'll just have to look for younger suppliers.

I can't imagine not being interested in sex, but if it happens,

so be it, really I could do with a rest, complete hormonelessness.

I may forget who I am and how to find my way home, but be

patient, remember I've always been more than a little confused

and never did have much of a sense of direction. If I'm completely

demented, I'm depending on friends: you know who you are.

"When I Am Old" by Moyra Donaldson, from Selected Poems. © Liberties Press, 2012. Reprinted with permission.

Appeared on The Writer's Almanac, November 14, 2014 (if you click on the link, you can listen to it).