Ode to Youth: Mighty Perishable, Disasters in Waiting

Poem by Nada Faris

This is an edited version of the poem that first appeared in Fountain of Youth (Vine Leaves Press, 2016), p: 81–82.

Dry your peanut
little friend
for youth is no folly,
a fountain to the end,
elixir to Molly. Jolly jokes,
a roly-poly, stoked
on coke and Adderall,
’shrooms and snacks,
hey skittle fiddle,
liquor plastered on the wall.
Don’t forget the tramadol.

Dip your peanut,
in the ground,
for youth is no furlough,
a fountain with a sound,
a trigger triple blow.
Sweat on skin, and thick
meadows in roller-coasters,
high and low,
burlesque cats, hey lovey-dovey,
hear them fully,
heave and ho,
rub and buckle
to and fro.

Dye your peanut
with your gain
for youth is not for sure.
A fountain of the same,
it stopped knocking on your door,
potential tangled on the floor,
quoth the Raven: “Nevermore.”