Mechanically, he turned and stepped away.
Though there remained a symphony to say,
the audience was obviously tired.
The orchestra was weak and uninspired.
And so he wandered up the street, and down,
through all the dry vernacular of town.
A thousand trivialities he passed
until the sidewalk brought him home at last.
He summited the dim and creaking stair.
He sank into the thrift store easy chair,
closed his eyes, and waited for her face.
She smiled at him. Then darkness took her place.

The couch was a large beating heart
I snuggled in deep and felt its pulse
The coffee table was a cliff overlooking
a vast carpet desert extending for what seemed like eons
The walls were bright yellow in the dim morning light
waving and gasping and holding the ceiling aloft
The flashing of the green 12:00 on my ancient VCR
swiveling and pivoting uncontrollably in the damp air
Lou Reed softly hums and wails
Everything is moving  yet staying perfectly aligned
Outside the trees make love in swaying sweetness
Kissing the clouds as they hover slightly above
the streetlights glow with angelic halos of orange and purple
I am alone in this brilliant time
and these are the best Boomers I've ever had.