I want a bar that serves
Only people Forty Plus.
I want to go to a cocktail venue
With a VIP list of people
Who have lived.

The bouncer is a nearly-deaf elderly man,
With a loud grumpy voice and
Yells anyone without a card that reads AARP
“Is out of here!”

I want to lounge in a scarlet velvet booth and listen to
Sinatra tunes and swoon.
Then add
The Ramones and Social Distortion
Tunes.

Society is  selling candied beauty
Which neither *** can ever attain.
How lovely it would be to
Give the other a break.

I want to drink wine with people;
broken by life
Bu still live bright eyed and wide..
I want to hang with people who have
At least one body part replaced:
Preferably a hip.
A new hipster of sorts.

No fishy pouts or cartoon rumps
Men with casually confident
And pay for each round.
I want to laugh and debate
With Gen Xers

Who understand, no one is getting out of this place.
No matter how healthy they eat.
In fact, I am craving something
Yummy and delicious
And bah hum bug
On nutritious.

I want a place where we can smile wise
From life’s realities and
Not keep the appearance
Of youth -
Accept our wrinkles, heating pads,
and early curfew.

A place we don’t have to pretend
Drink what we wish,
Tell a tale or two
Know life is cool
And it is ok
That this is Life.

Perhaps;
Perhaps not:
We will begin again.

I love me.

I just don't think
Anyone else does.

I love me.

Ten minutes ago,
I looked fabulous.

My hair was so pretty
And neat.
Not wetted down
with sweat from the top of my head
to the *****
Of my feet.

Ten minutes ago
I looked fabulous.
Even though traffic
Was angry and tight
The AC cooled my face and
My eyes
On my drive to here.
My thighs were not chaffing
And my underarms were dry.

Ten minutes ago
I looked fabulous.
My linen suit was pressed.
I was so pleased
With how I dressed.
Now ignore the wrinkles
That plague my skirt.
I will not cry
Nor look hurt.

Ten minutes ago
I looked fabulous.
My answers memorized.
My potential on the brink
Of being realized.
I was not rushing and
Falling up steps.

Ten minutes ago
I looked fabulous.

Sometimes

I wish I was Brando

To be the best

At being

Anyone
.....else.

I feel it, I feel it to my core

I feel it, an empath to my bones

I feel it, not sure where to go

I feel it, the pain I know is real

I feel it, I know down deep that this is time last spent

I feel it, I want to fight it, but to what end?

I feel it, is it worth it?

This is my life, is it worth it?

Does my life justify the fight?

The demise is imminent, is it worth the fight?

The collapse is assured, if I give up, will it be alright?

Oh, America the promise, what has become of us?

No longer I pledge, my country ‘tis of thee

I feel it, as I watch the destruction of liberty

I feel it, the collapse of the “great experiment,” so they say

I feel it, the genocide and slavery of which we were born

Were we ever really different than those who came before?

We tell ourselves lies to keep from confronting  the horror we inflict

I feel it, the hate, the racism, the treatment of people born brown

I feel it, powerless to inspire, to change, to resurrect common ground

I feel it, but what does that even mean anymore?