Girlfriends Out For Breakfast at Tiffiny’s With Cell Phones
We have no lives, live on our screens
One day we hope we shall be weaned.
Our kids aren’t up, we’re eating out,
Let’s hope they don’t interrupt with Tweets and shouts.
Tap tap tap our fingers fly,
Sending electrons across the sky.
Ching-jinka-jing our smart phones ring,
Kids are up, and about! Let’s eat up fast & get on out!
Dip my bacon in s’uth’n gravy, better chow here than home (or in the navy).
Hurry hurry, clean our plates, gotta get back to our maternal fate.
[Portage, March 19, 2017]
Tiny gray birds flit ceiling to floor
As old peeps shuffle along,
With squeaking joints,
Leaning forward as into the wind
Of the twilight of life, white hair
Soiled pallors, shiny sneakers
Adidas and Nikes, Air and not.
All hugging the walls of shops,
Edge of the Pale,
Shoes squeaking like manic mice,
Space-age slaves in horse-buggy bodies,
Slogging their way,
Day after day,
Fueled by java and joe
Steady, slow, definition of go.
Motion the goal
Of thin-blood, thick will.
Mantra in the air like birds
Use it or lose it, use it or lose it.