Night Music: At Last

The Joy of Retirement

.

After eleven years of blessed retirement, the Everloving and I have this conversation a lot!

For The Everloving On Valentine’s Day

This song is for us. We played this endlessly to each other the year we met.

Poem: In Progress

 

The older woman at the bar

thrusts out her breasts

exposing her defiance

of gravity

only to reveal

the clever architecture of her foundation

garments

etched in lines and grooves across her back.

Such women

with such pretensions

shouldn’t wear white sweaters

tucked tight into yellow stretch pants.

the shadows of the lines and grooves

accentuate the engineering

drawing our attention

away from the points she wants us to watch.

And once you notice the bra-lines

across her back

you ignore the synthetically pleasing roundness

of her surgically-enhanced bosom

across her front

and instead you focus

the lines and shadows that dog

her face

even through the most post-modern make-up

and you ask

probably silently

why this woman needs to hide her age

why this woman needs to pretend

she is still a sexual object.

Indeed,

why the sexual attribute has become so all-fired damn important

when sex lasts for but minutes

and friendship lasts forever.