Poet abuse can take subtle forms. Especially elder poet abuse. Poets of a certain age can be sensitive. We have feelings, too, you know.
So it was as I stood in line recently at a supermarket checkout station. Observing the scene, I noticed that the clerk was reciting a mantra as each customer passed through.
I was no exception. Planning to pick up only a couple of small, lightweight items, I had brought with me one shopping bag. Its capacity was by no means exceeded.
Nevertheless – and perhaps on autopilot as she neared the end of her shift – the clerk hit the replay button as she handed me my receipt.
I may never recover.
That pert and pretty checkout
Didn’t need a knowing smirk.
Enough to knock my hormones
“Sir, could you use some help