“Things I Don’t Do Anymore,” by William David


I don’t drink Jack Daniels by the bottle anymore.
My 2nd home isn’t the neighborhood bar like before.
I don’t get into bar room fights, the bruises hurt so much more.
Now days, I don’t need to get beat up to feel sore.

I don’t drive the Mustang any longer at 125,
I love my car and myself, and I’m now concerned we both survive.
When headed for a destination I want to be certain that I arrive,
at this older age, suddenly it’s become more important to stay alive.

I don’t go out chasing women anymore,
and they’ve stopped chasing me like they use to before.
I’m long time happily married, coming up, anniversary No. 34,
Thankful, no longer having to look for some way to score.

I no longer stay out until the crack of dawn,
these days I’m in bed with the curtains drawn,
I’m fast asleep before the 10:00 o’clock news comes on.
I need 8 hours of solid rest before next I see the sun.

I don’t go out and play baseball with the boys,
the back just can’t take the strain these days.
A lot of things I don’t do now are just faded joys,
to do them now would pain me in so many ways.

I don’t do too much that’s of the physical kind,
In most cases it’s too damn dangerous I find.
These days I live more cautiously and try to be more relaxed and refined.
And now days, not so many people think I’m totally out of my mind.


After a successful career as a Senior Engineering Designer working with international mining companies, William David is retired and living in Tucson, Az. He is now devoted to his passion: writing and reviewing poetry.