REFLECTIONS: GROWING OLD
Doctor Tess scoots her chair back. She says, “I have great headlines and I have bad news,” she sighs. I glance at her, waiting, expecting the news. “You really need trifocals.”
POETRY: COSMETIC SURGERY
COSMETIC SURGERY
A bit off here, a little some-more up there,
What inlet gave me isn’t fair.
I wish to feel, I wish to be,
A some-more self assured chronicle of me.
Lipo-suck my stomach – please,
Make me thinner surgically.
And take a bit from turn my knees,
A slimmer, trimmer chronicle of me.
