Upon returning from that haven of the wintered elderly, I had running through my brain an exchange that might amuse those of us in the Medicare crowd. And for those who have yet to bite into that apple of wisdom in the sunset years, this might provoke a chuckle as you anticipate being Next.

For the guarantee within the poem I have to thank my father, who could rattle it off at least as fast as I have here.

PS. Now that we’re home, I’ve added recordings for my earlier poems, “Dust” and “Live Oak.” I’m sure you’d like to know how I pronounce bromeliad.

He was polite, yes, deferential. A little Southern. And, I must be looking old.

But sir, they haven’t made that thing for years….

2 thoughts on “Next?”

  1. I asked this young guy how I could get in touch with him. He said I could try his Facebook page, follow him on Twitter, or try the old-fashioned way—e-mail.

  2. Good One – I refuse to answer anyone in a place of business that addresses me as (Honey, darlin, or the waitress at a Chinese restaurant we go to occasionally who addresses,Stan and me as “Well, hello cute ones”)Stan says I can’t kick her in the Shins. Trying to buy obsolete products, I can deal with. I probably can do without it anyway.Well, that’s my senior citizen gripe for the day,
    Lavilla B.

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