Old Aquaintance Best Forgot.
Old Acquaintance best forgot.
In a wrinkled sack
of bone ridged flesh,
his skull-like
visage cracks,
into an indentured smile
long and wearily flashed
then served to the
worshippers of the ball.
He carries the
weight of many souls
chained to his
seasonal collars,
all of those who
passed during his
very flawless reign,
Bent a bit from
the physical of waste
assembled on his flesh,
Father time steals
this years grief though
their images seem to match.
For what
seemed forever
he held eternal youth,
but it melted to his chins,
they hang in
wattles underneath
and quiver
when he speaks.
He'll make his
final bandstand,
as old Guy Lombardo did,
till his old tromp-bones
s l i d e graveward
and they find a
fresh faced host.
Hail to Dick Clark,
HE who EQUALS
our endless MC
TIMES SQUARE-d,
a marvel of
plastic surgery,
topped by his
well groomed toupee.
©-MFB III