to not be 97

should the fates desire
to spin me six more decades,
is it a sin to say no thanks?

should peter bar the gates
for another sixty years,
what is the price of
sneaking in the back door?

do not mistake me:
i neither hunger for
an early shroud,
nor seek to
shuffle off this
clumsy coil,

but
i lack the patience
lack the strength,
lack the will

to be frail.

i know the
seven deadlies,
i have studied,
i have learned,
but i do not know
what crime it is
to be too weak
to be weak.

so should the fates desire
to spin me six more decades,
is it a sin to say no thanks?