passers...bye.

this too is vanity...

senior discounts.

time is a fickle virus.

She acknowledges the diners
the vain futility of it all
she pretends the years away
scarlet knots tied tight
what if such were loosened
and with a free rein
the virus
were left to breed--
would she be consumed--
would her weak frame
now brittle collapse.
what say ye ole
Hippocratic oaths--
will profit bite
just whim?
at what point would
the reaper thrust
his hungry fork to
glean---
they shoot horses
dont they?
they--
them they
how'd they get
the power--
while we pay the price
slp

Part II
*
living amongst the aging
fits.
shes like them--young but old.
but they dont see that.
His son releases the trunk hood
so he can get his feet.
He wobbles a former air pilot
with a bag between his legs.
this one doesn't like the smell
of the old...
doesn't visit the nursing homes
doesn't frequent the dead hostile
places that remind her of time.
she feigns ignorance--
she feigns glee--
hunched over his crusted heels
he shuffles forward--
'stand straight'
another hollers--'and pick up those feet.'
pinpricks of scarlet daily ripen youth.
The aging--don't see if your up with the trends
don't give eye to faulty flecks of ones vanity.
the extra baggage --be it mid-section or back...
the extra growth of ears nose and hair--
well--whose to spot whom?
*
the hipsters ride two cars forward.
they have the strength to get there.
she'll keep up-- she always matches
a game--whether a fair component or not--
she feign as usual
they'll not know the wrestling
come evenings bite...
the inflammation of ligaments
undone --
s

when silence hurts too much

too tired to think