No Plans for Tomorrow
The pensioned
depravity of eyes
obsessed by needlepoint
loss of hunger for friends
grasping worn leather purses
reddened inoperable bunions
faraway families, fears of lost spectacles,
daily naps, pill cocktails
evening cognacs, postcards
from far flung holidays,
osteopathic bones,
matchbox memories,
miniature holiday soaps,
pink dial phones gone dusty,
obsolete phone numbers
with nonexistent area codes
in flip phone books,
TV guides of old shoes,
having second thoughts about
rolling up to have a honey candy.
Comments