Part One

I sometimes do everything possible to stop from getting old(er) 

denying the truth in front of me 
and trying to make life stand still 

Finding life is just too exciting 

to stop my body and mind 
from getting old(er) through all my years 

It’s been difficult to stop the aging process 

When one grows up, for example 
in a place like the South Bronx 

From birth to thirteen years of age 

with all its urban stress of living 
in the projects compared to let’s say 
Middletown New York 

In the sixties 

from the ages of thirteen to fifteen years of life 
where I was living in the most rural country 
As rural could be 

I faced painful memories of a catholic seminary 

and the catholic church and priests 
who reeked of sour wine and cheap booze 

While showering me with too much 

grace and sins and mystical powers 
that no one can describe or point out 
but being asked (no, told)

Just have faith 

and with that faith 
I could learn to live in 

Unobstructed land 

as far as my mind’s eye could see 
The air was as clean as clean could be 

Out in the country compared to the big city 

I could see at night 
more stars than I thought existed 

Shining their lights down on my eyes 

whispering, they were as old as time could be 
were now probably dead
since the time they first threw their light down at me 

Now they are old because they are dead 

I’m just getting old(er) 
because I had not died like them (yet) 

That almost pure life I focused on

Left all that clean air 
and unobstructed land 
and more stars than I thought existed 

Back to twenty-one story projects 

in the South Bronx compacted 
With so many people and urban stress 

In my fifteen years of life 

I told myself and my parents 
and anyone who would listen 
What I loved most was the freedom 
that came with imagination 

Where I could dream 

and create my own view 
of unobstructed land 
and more stars than I could imagine in my head 

Through the freedom I created for myself 

I could live more of my life 
and learn to be old(er) 
in a more inspiring way 

More than I could ever find there 

in the seminary 
or the Patterson projects or the John Adam Houses 
Or that apartment building just south of Crotona Park 
where my first marriage was dying 

The air in the Bronx was choking me 

And I got tired of the junkie life 
(but not drugs) 

I dreamed of living as many dreams as I could

Whether in a new big city like Washington, D.C 
Hartford, Connecticut, of the seventies 

Where on a clear night I could look up at the sky 

of rural Connecticut and inhale 
clean brisk air on a cold winter night 

And see unobstructed views for miles 

and see more stars than I thought was possible
The purity of New England history 

Then back to go back to Washington, D.C 

to live again in a compact city 
with history and legends, realizing 
I am now thirty years old(er) 

wondering what the hell happened 

between birth and thirty years of life 
It went so fast, or I lived so fast 

I realized all those years 

are more than a number
They were a full life 
If only I had stopped long enough 

To realize when I was young(er) 

full of vigor and ambition 
I didn’t need to fear getting old(er) 

While thinking aloud that my life will be special 

and exciting, and it’s all there ahead of me 
with no care in the world 

Remembering what they taught me in Phoenix House 

no matter where I go, there I’ll be 
no matter how far I go 
How far I run 
I cannot hide from myself 

I’ll always be there 

with all my faults and wrinkles 
and holes in my soul 

I’m a little old(er)

I fool myself into thinking 
I know so much 
When I don’t 

What else is there to know about life 

Except I was born 
and I get old(er) 

Life just goes on and on 

through thirty years of age 
And plenty of mistakes 
and remorse (not always) 

I think I will live forever 

and not get old(er) 
So I fill myself with more drugs 
and alcohol than I thought possible 

I crash at thirty-five 

and I keep hoping
There are better days ahead 

When I will be much old(er) 

and wiser 
I swear that I just need to get away 

Everything will change 

I will change 
And then I remember what they told me 
in Phoenix House

Wherever I go, there I am 

because there is no guarantee 
that getting old(er) will make me wiser 

If I could only move somewhere else 

I run all the way from the East Coast 
of this here United States of America 
to the West Coast 
of this here United States of America 

I will get another chance 

to get it right or wrong 
or whatever it is that I want of living 

And getting old(er) at thirty-five 

As I stand on the edge of America 
overlooking the vast Pacific Ocean 

I look up at the sky 

on a clear, brisk night 
where the breeze of the Pacific Ocean 
humbles me and 
There are more stars than I ever imagined 

While pointing me in a new direction 

toward a better old(er) self 
I wonder how far I must go 

How much time will it take?

while wondering 
If I still have time to get there.