ABOUT THE YOUNG
By Lewis Turco (a.k.a. “Wesli Court”)
Listen to Lew Turco read his poem, "About the Young."
The world is all about the young;
We elders are wrung out of it
Though we continue here among
The relevant. The clock has rung
One chime too often. Our phlegm and spit
Are all the juices we have left —
What would we do with more than these?
Our bedward turns are less than deft
These nights, our winding sheets bereft
Of art. There are no mysteries.
Then what’s the point? The future’s all,
And when there’s none, or very little,
We hang our portraits on the wall
And walk away from hall to hall
To find a place to sit and whittle
Away our last few hacking days
And piddle away our aching nights.
The world is all about the ways
The young make young and not the grays
That color our brows with northern lights.
But looking back at all the mess,
The scrabble, the lyrics badly sung
To music composed in wild distress,
One shakes one’s head and mutters, “Yes,
The world is all about the young.”