Past My Prime

By Scott Sjostrand



I’m past my prime, living on borrowed time!

Alone, bereft, keep talking to myself, I must be deaf.

After Tracy left, it nearly led to my death.

Enemies came out of the woodwork, beam me up Captain Kirk!

I’m Scotty and I can’t, when I try to communicate, people think I rant.

Listening to Dwight Yoakum, another beer, I soak ‘em.

Time for some Motley Crue, a little Rook, something new.

They used to call me ‘whore bait, a friendly term

Almost destroyed by female germs!

Here I am once again, with music, paper and pen.