deepundergroundpoetry.com

Baby Boomer

 
   
I. Observation      
      
It’s not difficult to tell  
when middle-aged are married.  
Their flesh rises, a soft center  
paunchy croissant buttered  
with experience; comfort food    
a warm bed instead of the cold      
black-out claiming this light rail      
we're both stalled on now.  
 
Your head shows a mahogany  
crown roasted with garlic-pepper  
seasoning, cheeks a flushed  
cranberry mayo  
over a rye-breaded beard.      
      
Gold flashes off the peninsula  
of the fourth finger
through a sun-streaked window.
Resolved eyes of a kind-hearted
dog crouch over a hesitant smile
and thought so loud it's palpable
through the dirt vibrating
the rubberized aisle between us:    
 
"If only you'd known me in my prime."    
      
II. Perception      
        
Let me tell you about yourself.  
    
You've given up on youth and love.    
You accept routine
like bland oatmeal    
during a budget crunch.
A belief in nothing else
will propel you toward    
your stop, lugging the briefcase    
and shopping bag minus the bread    
you forgot from the list you dropped.      
 
And, faithful to your l(w)ife, you      
don't look back to alleviate guilt  
from the wink that jumped ship    
through the port hole of your eye,    
because it refuses to drown
amid the flotsam and jetsam  
of your self-loathing regret.  
 
It wants to live goddammit;  
grabs hold of a preserver and kicks  
toward the last line of something  
it heard over your yearning  
for muscled firmness:
    
the poem I've been scribbling
in the dark for the 30 minutes
of this silent interlude.      
      
III. Conclusion      
      
Fuck buff; give a woman
a choice and she'll choose
a soft-centered croissant    
buttered hard with experience
despite losing the list
forgetting the bread    
or some harmless flirtation  
that re-ignites a fire she  
personally benefits from
come time for bed
if not the kitchen first;
hands warm against the stove
balancing thrusts from behind.    
      
IV. Fact      
        
Every. Time.      
~
Ahavati
Written by Ahavati
Published | Edited 30th Jun 2017
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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