Full obvious to me it is I get
away with happiness. I ransom glee
from Morpheus, elude the counterfeit
of ease and don my harness willingly.
(Elastic doesn’t bind as much as hold.)
(I need a bit of tension in my stance.)
(I like my effort when it’s self-controlled
exertion that becomes a private dance).

My body barely hurts. At 64
I’m fitter than I felt when I was young.
I smoke 2 joints before I shut my door
to leave, so careless now I’ve found my tongue
I let it sing its selfish harmony,
with nothing less than air inspiring me.