“Ken! Long time, no see! What’s up, man? What’s new?”

“Back pain is back, old habit, and reckons

the end of the sex need, the beginning

of such apathies as enlightenment.

Middle age: the open window beckons.

In that empty space, beyond my braying

reflection: my calm senescence, winning.

While burning steps give in towers swaying,

burdened yearns the mummy wrapped up in chain.

Man’s first small step through a revolving door…

Surprise! The same lightless, barren moon. Or

is someone there? Hello? Is this the end

of excuses, explanations, back pain?

Tim, who can say? Anyway, how are you?”