Allow me to rant. I have all sorts of complaints to get off my chest!
© Steven E. Cutts, 2023
a Studio C recording, June 2023
When I was in my twenties and I looked into a crystal ball
This is not how old age was portrayed.
Now I’ve reached my senior years, the dings and dents are piling up,
My body has been earning failing grades.
I forget – what is that game? You hit a critter on its head
And another critter pops right up and grins?
No sooner do I get one ailment bandaged
When a brand new hurt begins.
This is not what I signed up for! This is not what I imagined!
This is not what I expected would unfold!
I did not count on Nirvana, and I never felt that somehow I was owed,
But I’m afraid that I have lost control.
On Earth Day nineteen seventy I sang a song decrying air pollution
But I thought we had a chance
Of saving our sweet planet. Now a half a century later
It is looking more and more as if we can’t.
We have basked in untold riches; we have reveled in machinery;
We’ve feasted on the bounty of the land.
And now we’re one disaster closer to catastrophe;
Our pay-off is at hand.
This is not what I signed up for! This is not what I imagined!
This is not what I expected would unfold!
I did not count on Nirvana; we should not have thought that somehow we were owed.
I’m afraid that we have lost control.
And don’t get me started on the nation.
United is a lost word from our past.
The anger and distrust’s an explanation
Why truths we do not want to hear are inconvenient facts.
This is not what I signed up for! This is not what I imagined!
This is not what I expected would unfold!
I did not count on Nirvana, but I thought the good old ties that bind would hold.
This constant bickering is getting old.
And I’m afraid that we have lost control.
The New Yorker, June 26, 2023
