happy birthday

when i turned a hundred
years old the newsman
and his crew came down
to interview me. someone
baked me a cake with
a hundred candles and asked
me to blow them out,
bite me, i said into
the camera, putting my
teeth back in for a slice
of cake, are you trying
to kill me, i don't even
blow my nose anymore. all
of which got edited out
for the six o'clock news,
but it's on you tube if you
care to see it. others
brought me gifts, things i
didn't need, i pretty
much have everything
at this point. i don't
need another watch right now.
i know what time it is,
and it's the end. they asked
me if i had any secrets
to my longevity. i told
them, drinking, smoking,
staying up late,
pulled pork sandwiches
and sex. lots of wild
monkey sex, which made them
all laugh, but it was true.
i did what made me happy, to
hell with all of them.
i showed them my scars
from the world war two
where some nazi shoved
a bayonet into my gut
in the black forest.
i showed them how i could
still open beer bottles
with my teeth and crush
a can with my forehead.
they all liked that and
laughed and shook my hand
gently as if i might crumble
like a cookie in milk.
bastards. i'll outlive
them all. they asked me
what i thought the biggest
thing in my life was,
airplanes, the moon landing,
computers, television, perhaps
the cure for polio, but i
said no, none of that. what
then, they asked, what were
you most amazed by and excited
about in your lifetime.
nylons, i said. the first
time i saw my girlfriend sheila
in a pair of sheer black
nylon stockings and high
heels, well that
was big. not much else
really mattered from that point
on. that was it for me.