If I Make It to 80

f I Make It to 80 I’ll look good.
I mean real good.
Sexy good
Hot-looking-grandma-good
Face-lift
Boob-lift
Eye-lift
Tummy-tuck
Liposuction-good.

I’ll wear white short skirts
And play tennis.
Wear string bikinis and

Go to the beach.

My son will be 60
My daughter 63
My husband,
The way he eats,
DEAD!

(Which means I can sleep
With the tennis pro-- if I want.)

At 80 I’ll have no shame.
I’ll be a slave to fashion
Flaunt my bellybutton
Wear red pushup bras with lacy straps.

I’ll hit on young men in bars
Listen to rock and roll till dawn
Smoke unfiltered cigarettes
Take belly-dancing lessons downtown.

At 80, if Death dares show his face,
I’ll put on a sexy purple gown
Sprawl like Cleopatra on the couch
Invite him to take off his cape
Have a glass of Cabernet
Sit closer, not be shy.

— Sholeh Wolpé