Thirsty Old Man
With a Parchment Poem
My thirst now as an old man for deep connections has twice the horsepower and double the torque of a young man’s lust.
Deep connection should be easier to find than sex, not limited by age or gender, but sadly that is not the case.
There are no brothels offering bliss in the profound and awesome abyss of a truly meditative heart.
Most people resist deep connections and I myself resist them despite my craving and my poeming on the goatskins of my soul.
About eight times a week a hug a smile a kind word or a dream will break through.
That’s enough I suppose to remind me of the non-stop waterfall of love and joy in my hidden heart.
This poem is in response to a conversation with Pierre Trudel aka Louise following his publication of this wonderful story:
