the waitress popped up with the usual
“how are you today?”
but rather than trying
to cover up with a phony “fine”
I said instead, “rotten”
and she did a double-take and came back
by the end of the meal, we were both laughing
~*~
arguing we needed music that reflected the Machine Age?
discomfort, bottled up until exploding
and when buzzed by a sailplane
I was all skull, brain, thought, memory
tried sunbathing just now: too restless
wishing to be seventeen again
SHOOT, IT’S A KILLER
the underlying reason for these orthodontics?)
~*~
“well, if you do find a way
to become seventeen, they can’t
throw you in jail!”)
two calls in a day, one wanting
the bank’s certificate of deposit department
and another an alleged beverage survey
calling long-distance from Philadelphia
for the youngest female in my household
(a likely story, probably an obscene phone call
that got hung up on) . old wounds have reopened
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Copyright 2015
Jnana's Red Barn 