staring blearily into my bowl,
gazing into a single eyeball!

where'd it come from?

I don't know,
It can't be real,
so I take my hand and feel...

All around my cracking jaw,
On my chin and on my maw,
On my mouth and every dip,
Of wrinkled ridges round my lips.

Nothing's wrong, seems to be,
With this certain part of me.

So I stick...