The End of Zoom

Now, the bell tolls I don’t want to go back to just say hello To see your torso Standing up straight saluting a flag Or slumped to a chair To examine your knees and skis of feet I really don’t care To re-learn how to bow down To your judgment of ankles I don’t need nor want the frivolous Of commutes and airports Parking meters and car washes Coffee gossip dunked in gasoline snacks The ball and chain of summer slacks Black socks tight shoes a tie and My God what were we thinking? A coat over it all in July? Just to adhere to a clock? Yes, toll for thee oh tick tock For all the crap we were forced to s**t To feed a phantom hunger. I was satisfied with a smiling face And our eyes locked On words that mattered. Zoom was like poetry Its brevity Left plenty of time in between To muse from home of love and meaning.