-From "The Last Lap" journals-

As far as I can tell, my ears haven’t grown

noticeably larger, and my nose isn’t

pock-marked like the gentleman’s in 906.

But my eyes have been occupied by “floaters”

acting like certain strains in protozoa under the lens.

Also, there's this:

Recently, albeit temporarily, I considered addressing

Anthony of Padua when I couldn't find the keys,

and although laziness hasn't tracked me down,

I’m beginning to lend weight to its virtues.

And don’t talk to me about erectile disfunction.

I’m in no mood, although I manage with modern chemistry. 

Of time? Well, it seems the years have become

passersby heading in the wrong direction.

But discoveries come my way even while I stay put.

Neruda said: "I came to live in this word."

I'd say: "I’ve simply outlived my enemies."

God?–– I dunno.

I see God as that broken, gaudy flower vase my

grandmother held on to 'till her last breath, now boxed

in the attic under "miscellaneous" because it can't do anything.

Anyway,–– now for the good news.  Oh, wait!.. Necessity calls.