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Originally titled “Let’s Grow Old Together and Die #1 and #2″, I decided to “steal” my submissions and post them on my creative writing blog. I needed something to fill the gap between parts one and two of “O.C.D. Tree Killer”, and this seemed like decent filler. I dedicated this poem to M.M., which stands for mystery man. But he already knows who he is. I was internet stalking him for almost two years so he should know by now. Duh. If you don’t know by now, his name is… Oh, nevermind. It doesn’t really matter. The point is, this poem was inspired by my feelings for him. But if you really want to know, five of the letters in the first line of each poem spells his first name. I didn’t plan it that way, because that would be… creepy… but the coincidence is convenient.
Stroking Egos at the Retirement Home
The retirement clock strikes
another hour and a patient strokes,
weathered hands still clutching the remote.
Control is an illusion when she spasms
and her senile husband says
what she’s thinking-
“The children never visit anymore.”
then turns the channel to Lifetime.
Sweeter Than Sweet Potato Pie
Cooling her last pie on the windowsill
Mary looks outside and sees Pat playing
with Rusty by the wooden and barbwire fence
and smells the distinct aroma of El Productos,
and hears the sound of J.T. shelling pecans on the porch.
She’s back again, the baking angel,
in her granddaughter’s sweet dreams.