Vulture
My feet don't fit the shoes I wear
I'm slipping before I'm walking
laughing at this chess-match of proxy
between Certain-Age-Girl & straining males
fitted-2-Starbuck-chair like chewing road-carion
a vulture's lunch
We're older now; thinning hair, unpainted toes
maybe sagging, maybe uplifting,
not fragile enough for that kind of attention
free instead to sit wiggling our hips to ourselves
reading something of substance against an
observation of dissection
I can take the time to think of you not myself
moments we call pleasure, or loneliness
frothed under light, abundent day-moths all
and your skin, warm in my hand; one real thing while
others strut, contort, limbo, excelerate,
ungraciously, toward inevitable
heterodynemind
I enjoyed this. I am definitely a member of this crowd now. Unpainted toes..sagging..a-hem. But, on the other hand, all the hours spent on upkeep can now be spent on poetry which I view as a winning proposition. Keep up the good work, Candy.
I enjoyed this. I am definitely a member of this crowd now. Unpainted toes..sagging..a-hem. But, on the other hand, all the hours spent on upkeep can now be spent on poetry which I view as a winning proposition. Keep up the good work, Candy.
Sandra Dodd
making fun of anyone for any part of their appearance is a form of prejudice, prejudice being a feeling of superiority for a superficial reason. Really like this poem. Especially the substance with age part! Good write
making fun of anyone for any part of their appearance is a form of prejudice, prejudice being a feeling of superiority for a superficial reason. Really like this poem. Especially the substance with age part! Good write
A good dark write that strikes out.