The yeast of age

 The yeast of old age
people claw for another year
roll that cigarette month
esoteric desire

all caught up in the measurements
you´ll draw lines and deadlines
for the lies on your face and the lives now bodyless
still whirring through their past routines an eternal factory of motion

Awareness subsides and most of you out there claw for sleep
That last cigarette, that ember curling toward the lip
each drag a celebrated moment
Mystical nicotine that stimulates but ages your face

That yeast in the bowl collecting itself
Sprinkled on the large sticky leaves
whose pungency is now infected
by a blight that popped and burst out that old age yeast