subtitled: The Bolder Boys (rivals of The Golden Girls)
written for a word bank contest - twenty really weird ones
Two graying seniors with appalling chimera
bantering back and forth - mental meandering.
Be it mirage or dreams from another era -
they diminish the other's philandering.
Fanfaronade - from high school boys I would expect
now it re-appears in quite perceptible measures
from our retired magistrate whom I quite suspect
of erroneous accounts of addled pleasures.
While his cohort, an erratic ex-engineer
relates with brazen gibberish his tete a tetes.
At one time more clear and swift of eye and ear,
on blogs they ordain to publish communiqués.
I have found no diffidence which they jeopardize
making harmless though delectable advances,
Noted but honest attempts to digitize
their forte, their skill in dubious romances.
I offered an honorarium of great size
for the first one who would divest his florid page
of any contentious items - to sanitize. .
Gaga girlfriends grin and gush. They're cute at this age.
September 18, 2021
I am left with the human wreckage of my life,
My baggage of bones and clutter, spectres and desire
To slaver around and haunt me until it ends.
To look back is pain, to look forward is fear and to
Stand still is not an option.
I am the pilot of the Cessna and the Cessna is my
Existence; to crash and burn is my prophecy
And my destiny. At times I will continue to do both,
All the while missing you, missing us and missing me.
What I was, I grieve for, what I could have been
Bereaves me and what I am…what I am saddens me
Beyond expression.
I can’t walk out on this feeling,
Alone in no man’s land with just a Rorschach phrase book
Translated by a dysphasic internal language,
A salad of gestures and noiseless slang not even I,
The architect of such communiqués can understand.
And still, in the reverberating chambers of this half-life,
This captivity, I love you, for there is nothing else I can do.
I love you…beyond expression,
And, in spite of heaven’s sake, it
Can never profess
To be enough…
Such love is terminal, over,
Out?
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