Parallel Universe

Ah, youth

When women would often

Try to convince me

I reminded them of a dead husband, uncle, their recent lover

On and on it went

Some of them overly perfumed their presence

Others with hair quaffed in beastly curls and braids

Occasionally a pink haired granny

Youth growing up 

Accepting adolescent fantasy as reality

A me with heavy beard

Another trying the slashed-wrist-in-a-bathtub gig

And one of my doubles actually walked into the ocean

And never came back

But old age still provided

One who played extraordinary piano

Another taking rides in a balloon

A favorite loved wearing out his running shoes

That was the last time anyone found me

Being the one they thought they knew

I am now either rappelling an obelisk in the clouds

Or reading Proust in French on a bullet train

Or walking on water

Grinning to my present self…

For now