she angles for the
best seat in the house
if you don’t watch her,
she’ll own that retirement home
she’s got to have the comfiest chair
clueless, tactless, all bad breath and
weak knees
white hair stained teeth brittle bones
poor me looks and
sighs of discontent,
her current frailty betrays memory
of the once upon a time,
when she leapt over tall dreams
never one for small talk,
you always know exactly
where you stand with her
she puts her charms to work on men
and the women all want to be her friend
now she snores the lazy day long
on infomercial couch
perpetual, old codger thirst
it takes precious time and strength
to get off the sofa
so, she always manages to
trick someone into getting
a drink for her
there are no children, no grandchildren
no brothers or sisters
there is only the waiting
waiting for company to arrive
and for dinner time
she still appreciates touch
but tires of it easily;
retreats to early bedtime
old woman has no cats,
she doesn’t like them
television holds no interest for her
she’s always been more of a
nature lover,
walking for hours, anywhere
but even this is no longer suitable
as the heat gets to her fast, these days
and her weak legs
no longer do their part
when strangers come around,
she is discourteous,
barking cliches at them,
to get off her damned lawn,
even though she
doesn’t even have a lawn
her mind doesn’t work like yours or mine
it’s as if she thinks she’s in charge
but old friends are always welcome and
she loves on their familiar faces,
kissing them on the cheek
and sitting close to them,
imploring to make up for lost time
she fails to recognize
some people’s need
for personal space
old woman was fierce in her day
but her day is no more dawning
and sun sets slowly on her
throwing dim light on her white hair
the old gal needs help sometimes,
going up and down the stairs
even needs help getting into bed,
she has a male nurse that softly
raises her legs up and tucks her in
she must be bathed,
because left to her own devices,
she won’t do it herself
her caretaker gently puts her in the tub,
soaps her up and washes her clean,
towel dries her and brings her a snack
that old people smacking sound
happens more than ever before,
that thing they do
that makes it sound like
a stoner just ate a bunch of
peanut butter but lost their soda,
so they can’t wash it down
her appetite is still strong;
she eats virtually
anything you put in front of her,
she’ll even steal food from your plate,
if you leave the room
the old broad just ain’t got no manners
or shame
she’s too old to worry what anyone
thinks of her and far too busy
with her endless naps
to notice the things they say…
she’s half deaf and half blind, anyhow
the gal has skills, though
while she never had
any formal schooling,
she’s learned a great deal
over the years in the school of life
and people are always
impressed with her intelligence
she’s been through good times and bad
she’s smart enough to know
when to sit still, when to run
and when to just play dead
and wait it out
while she ain’t too proud to beg
for what she wants,
she can still flatter you out of
just about anything you’ve got,
with her aged eyes and soft company,
winning you over to her side,
every time
despite the pitiful, poor manners,
when this old woman sits next to you,
you know that you’re in the presence
of a real, true friend,
the type that will defend you
and tell you no lies
you feel love pouring off of her
and your every arrival at her house
is met with her rising up
on those creaky old bones,
coming straight to the door,
to welcome you inside
she wears ridiculous things,
things designed for a girl
half her age
as if she doesn’t understand her decline
or just refuses to accept it,
or both
and don’t be too alarmed
if you catch her walking around naked
she’s not ashamed of her body,
in the least
she’s capable of being a mean old bitch
when necessary
but she won’t spare the energy for it
her nature is that of the lover, anyway
she really got around, back in the day,
let everyone touch her, all over
it’s not always obvious
but a lot of the old birds
were good girls in name only,
they let every guy in town rub them
in that special spot,
the one they open their legs for
but we don’t judge her,
for its in her genetics to be
loose in the streets, running wild
and accepting attention from all comers
loneliness is what she fears most,
she doesn’t tire of her friends company
always wants them to stay longer,
becomes anxious if she has to be alone
the old gal is cemented into my heart,
I love her,
even though she rarely speaks
she is a warm companion and
they just don’t make ’em like that,
no more
I talk to her and stroke her cheek and
she lets me know with her eyes
that it means the whole world to her
when she goes down for another nap,
I curl up beside her
no jello or cookies for her,
just like a proper, English lady,
she takes biscuits, instead
she doesn’t like hot coffee or hot tea,
she usually just drinks
room temperature water
despite all her demands for
attention and her lack of
personal hygiene
and her being completely
devoid of any social grace,
she’s a kind old gal
and she’s this man’s best friend
Copyright 2020
Magus
(Kevin Trent Boswell)
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