forever young


forever young

em = By Phil McManus

each day we move toward our death,

each night the darkness

closes in, we grow a little older

and death's domain is extended.
death cannot touch the staff at McDonald's.

they age like clothing models

in saliva stimulating uniforms,

their face covered in pimples

like a strawberry milkshake,

with one eye on the employment pages

in search of another job