A.G.E's Joint

  May the new year Be as a lark ascending A crescendo to a forte Never in a minor key

Two glasses in On the last day of the year. Listening to my son and his friends Laughing in the other room. Echoing back to another day Another time When it was me as the entertainer Or the entertained. Not that it matters Doing the same thing over And expecting a different result Is still insanity. The guardian angel aghast At the proceedings of the night. Seeing things through the alcohol lens Instead of as they are or were. Now, thirty years later It is my son's turn To chase illusions And hope they become real.  So before the last leaves fall And the glass ball drops  I wonder at where I am And where I will be. 

A blast from the past and it had caught her completely off guard.  He had looked so cute the last time, splayed on the bar floor, olives and orange slices in his hair. He thought she was going to be easy since he was the boss. The date and the job were left behind in a cloud of VW minibus smoke. Life went on. And now two years later he wanted to go down to see the Big Peach for New Years.   What did he really want? Kari still wasn’t sure she wanted to go.   New Year’s Eve had no appeal.   It was just a reason to get wasted, a celebration without a purpose. Oh, there was the pretense of faking atonement of the past. But hideous dates and worse hangovers made self improvement difficult.   No, impossible. It was a wasted day. A curly haired image smiled back as she brushed her hair.   Vanity never was her thing.   Aging was a beautiful process and gray was normal. Only a cut to even the ends was necessary. Why did other women obsess so much...