Steel Facade

Grey-haired and shaped like a walrus
she shuffles and lumbers, leans
heavy then heaves her walker
forward with each halting half-step.
In formal slow motion she opens

the trunk, collapses metal frame,
folds it inside. Hand over hand
over hand, she gropes the chrome
detailing of her oversized
opulent Olds 98.

Door yawns wide, she slumps inside,
well-heeled shoes flutter-kick the air.
A jostle, a jerk, a jiggle,
she is enthroned. Circle scepter
before her spins counter clockwise.

FM dial delivers Mozart
measures for traffic masquerade.

May Third

You bring flowers - again, though
I've asked you not to because
I'm allergic to cliche
and breakout in disinterest.
Anniversary! you purr

while Cheshire smile betrays
platitudes drooling from your teeth.
The floral spray is contrived
and stiff, each pouty pink bloom
equidistant from its mate,

symmetrical and isolated.
More marathon than marriage,
truth grabs the throat and grits
the eyes. In seven years
I will leave this institution.

When asked for the time, I'll flash
the gold watch I purchased myself.