Thursday, August 30, 2018
Medical Dialog
-And I have become one seriously
acquainted with his asshole.
-So what? We’re parts. As we age
more require attention.
-Like a fine old watch?
-Scrub the fine!
Labels: aging, medical complaints
Monday, March 26, 2018
Friends Diagnose
-Heard you went Altzy.
-Almost. Very short episode, which
straightened itself around. Some
little confusion and forgetting.
-Welcome to the club!
-But I’m good to go now! Just
gotta write more things down.
-There goes your charm!
-Uh huh? Based as it is on
the half-assed?
-Tough area to claim accomplishment
in, since it’s crowded by the rest
of us.
-Anyway, Doc insisted on Brain Scan,
which showed nothing!
-Too bad. You’d like to see evidence
you have one.
-I’ve always wondered.
-Well I can attest I’ve seen it
operating these many years!
-Thank you! You’re lifting me up!
-What IS your name, anyway?
Labels: aging, Alzheimer, brain scan, confusion, forgetting
Friday, April 01, 2016
Deciphering
Which?
-I feel particularly lousy!
-A moment ago: Terrific!
-Both.
-Where’s the consistency? Are you
Trump or Hillary?
-I still pee standing up!
-Barely.
Labels: aging, Health, Hillary, mood, pee, Trump
Sunday, October 11, 2015
The Beauty Thing
Her View of Herself
J’s beauty consisted largely of makeup
meticulously applied, and a series of
tricks, some newly learned from Czech spas.
This last fad her girlfriends shared, laughing
over coffee and low cal...well, anything.
The translations proved especially gawky
on youtube.
She refused to let boyfriends see her in the
morning, setting the alarm for five.
The rest of her life consisted in buying clothes.
Her parents disagreed. Mom: so so pretty; Dad:
useless weight on the fuckin earth!
The only crises to move her was physical.
An herbal paste causing a rash along her
shoulders.
Thus, the dermatologist came on her team,
joining the plastic surgeon and others.
Her lips beset. Too thin. Injections made them
ridiculous.
J took vacation time and hid. The lips were gotten
down to large, but not absurd.
Weeks for that! her father fumed. Her mother laughed
a setback but, again, so so pretty.
One day you walk from the frame, and a young woman
takes your place.
With J, she was rather pushed from it. Transferred to
Brazil to help start a new branch, she soon graced
Rio’s beaches. But, lost mid so many younger beauties...
But not in the mind of a man who runs fleets of taxis.
He courts tirelessly, and they elope to Vegas.
In two weeks, she develops a slots problem, but he keeps her
budgeted.
They drop in on the parents before going back to Brazil.
Dad likes anyone hard-working. Mom pronounces so so pretty,
but too young to marry!
Placido doesn’t mind all the time spent on makeup and clothes.
He says she’s beautiful with or without.
He’s considered handsome in a gray-tinged way, but could
care less.
Labels: aging, beauty, beauty work, gambling, makeup, marriage, mature beauty, parents, Vegas
Sunday, March 18, 2012
All But Time
His impressed skin
after deepest sleep
tells him the children
have eaten Ritz Crackers
in the bed again,
while scrolling porn
titles on the program
guide. Joline will
come to handle them.
It's a short flight
on Sardine Airlines,
thank God! He wears
shoes with velcro straps,
the better to kick them off at
X-ray. Proper also for his des-
tination. The air aboard assaults
with historical BO. Picks
the youngest cabbie midst
an imploring horde.
He'll recite the history wrong
but spew great celebrity gossip.
Has him cut the AC and open
the windows to ancient odors,
their palpable feel. Once
again established, it's dinner
at the port where's he's remembered
with staggered toasts. Returns praises
with his own. Afterwards, Marco
takes the driver's seat of the tractor
in the moon-slashed courtyard.
"Since when?"
"It’s time."
His impressed skin
after deepest sleep
tells him the children
have eaten Ritz Crackers
in the bed again,
while scrolling porn
titles on the program
guide. Joline will
come to handle them.
It's a short flight
on Sardine Airlines,
thank God! He wears
shoes with velcro straps,
the better to kick them off at
X-ray. Proper also for his des-
tination. The air aboard assaults
with historical BO. Picks
the youngest cabbie midst
an imploring horde.
He'll recite the history wrong
but spew great celebrity gossip.
Has him cut the AC and open
the windows to ancient odors,
their palpable feel. Once
again established, it's dinner
at the port where's he's remembered
with staggered toasts. Returns praises
with his own. Afterwards, Marco
takes the driver's seat of the tractor
in the moon-slashed courtyard.
"Since when?"
"It’s time."
Labels: aging, escape, memory, nostalgia, pornography
