Master I may be
But not of my fate
Now come the kisses, too many too late
Tell me, O Parcae
For fain would I know
Where were these kisses three decades ago?
Girls there were plenty
Mint julep girls, beer girls
Gay younger married and headstrong career girls
The girls of my friends
And the wives of my friends
Some smugly settled and some at loose ends
Sad girls, serene girls
Girls breathless and turbulent
Debs cosmopolitan, matrons suburbulent
All of them amiable
All of them cordial
Innocent rousers of instincts primordial
But even though health and wealth
Hadn't yet missed me
None of them
Not even Jenny
Once kissed me
These very same girls
Who with me have grown older
Now freely relax with a head on my shoulder
And now come the kisses
A flood in full spate
The meaningless kisses, too many too late
They kiss me hello
They kiss me goodbye
Should I offer a light, there's a kiss for reply
They kiss me at weddings
They kiss me at wakes
The drop of a hat is less than it takes
They kiss me at co*ktails
They kiss me at bridge
It's all automatic, like slapping a midge
The sound of their kisses
Is loud in my ears
Like the locusts that swarm every seventeen years
I'm arthritic, dyspeptic
Potentially ulcery
And weary of kisses by custom compulsory
Should my dear ones commit me
As senile demential
It's from kisses perfunctory, inconsequential
Answer, O Parcae
For fain would I know
Where were these kisses three decades ago?