I have a solution. To the problem. Of coping with old
age. Go to a psychotherapist. And have
him hypnotize me. Into thinking. That I’m merely 39, and not 80. To believe it
all. With my heart and soul. Then I would be young enough. To be the son of my
Italian amore. Of course, people would accuse me. Of living a bold-faced
lie. But that wouldn’t bother me. If I
truly believed the lie. I’d be just like so many other liars (and scoundrels). Now thriving. Deceptively.
In the world of politics. -- Jim Broede
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