You are old and still stand on a formal head
While the forests are cleared of underbrush
And the sun plops down on a nasty clearing
With ultraviolet rays to the old eye and heart.

Not even your God now remembers your age.
A little mischievous girl down the rabbit hole
Keeps asking why you stand on hurtful head
At your age, when reverse is normal standing.

(taking off on Southey’s poem “Old man’s complaints and how he gained them” and its parody “You are old Father William” in Lewis Caroll’s “Alice In Wonderland”)