Archive for August, 2016

Inland Seagull

Posted: August 27, 2016 in poem, poet, poetry
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This week in the life of John ( as if anyone gives a damn)

The last couple weeks I have been to Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Texas, Colorado, Oklahoma, Illinois  and of course the Ol’faithful and backward Kansas.

I’m noticing a trend, I have reached an age where young clerks and waitresses are calling me “Hon” ,”Honey”, “Darlin” or “Sweetheart”. It strikes me in a bad way whenever I am called any of “those names”. I feel it is condescending, sort of being familiar. I don’t mind being called Sir. But man if you knew me, I ain’t no Honey, Hon or Sweetheart. It happened to me three times in three different states this week. I think it may become a trend in the service industry.  I can stand it and say nothing, I may just give them a puzzled look when they call me that. I don’t think I look that old to be called a name usually reserved for older gentlemen in open back gowns residing in hospital rooms or nursing homes that may need a sympathetic word or two to soothe their physical or mental pain.  I can remain silent when I am called that, but OC, if he notices it, he comes out and goes a little ape-shit wild.

It was Colorado, an airport that I’m sure hundreds of thousands of travelers pass through each day. All walks of life are seen there. I waited in line to pay for my purchase and paid close attention to what the girl clerk was calling the customers. Overwhelming nothing, not one of “those names”. Tens of people waited on, not one “name”. I step up to the cash register and maybe took a little longer than the others to count out my change, but not more than a second or two, and it came “Thank you Honnnn”,  and a weak smile.  I felt puzzled by it, but OC took over… and asks “What did you call me? ” and she sort of smiled and says “Honey”. And OC says ” Thank you Baby, and you smell good and have very nice Tits” .

I , of course was appalled and turned to quickly leave. The older gentleman waiting directly behind me was laughing his ass off and said “Right on Brother!!” He and OC traded fist bumps. Maybe that will become a trend.

Such is the life of John

(OC reappeared about a year ago. To learn more about my other alter-egos , go to my About page)

Heavy Metal

Posted: August 8, 2016 in free verse, poem, poet, poetry
Tags: , , ,

Beneath the soft stretched fabrics
are the hard bodies of youth’s firm human frame,
Judged by fast changing clocks
and watchers and lovers of perfect style and form.
They win or lose by hundredths of seconds
or fractions of subjective points.
On podiums they bow their heads with broad white smiles and joyful tears
To begin wearing medals as heavy as the egos of their national anthems.
And to be known forever as having the heart of an Olympian.