It is tragic that the young doesn't know
what it's like to be old.

But it is even more so tragic when the old forgets
what it's like to be young.

The wordless girl sitting at your booth
sipping on a tall, vanilla soy latte
is anything but mute.

In your verbal exchange, blinding optimism
beams from her ***.
Energy inconceivable
gives you ability
to speak,
and to speak
freely.

She nods her head in agreement
of your intellectual banter,
providing the validation
you frequently require
to sustain your
"liberal mind".

She longs for a different subject of conversation,
but for now, she adamantly
emits her existence
to merely feel
included.

And yet........... you gasp in disgust
when she endeavors to engage in your
sophisticated dialect
on cultural relativism,
police brutality,
or Singapore's successful economic infrastructure.
You sweep away her thoughts,
exterminate her relevance.
You call her
obtuse
naive
the epitome of what flaws this doomed Nation...
And yet,
she is the one
observing,
learning.

She speaks softly and
carries a big stick,
longing for the day to give you a
good
whack
She wants to bruise your ego,
leave you ****** and raw
for vultures to draw circles around your
irrelevant corpse.

But she won't.
And she won't ever admit it.

She'll just sit there quietly,
empower your existence,
and later reincarnate
her inadequacy
on loose leaf.

"This driveway is an endless *******."

"When you're gone, I won't have a maid, gardener, or dog walker."

"BE KIND TO THE PLANET."

Who here has clothes on?
"I do officer!"

"I swear all the people over 300 pounds go to Costco on Saturdays just to get the free samples. Then they walk down the middle of the aisle: they're so wide you can't get past them."
Note to self:
don't get fat
or the master will
make fun of you

Whilst watching Jeopardy:
"Bet it all *****."

**"I'm really not that funny..."