She gasped over
smokers, drinkers, or eaters
unconcerned about the fats and Es,
those with emotions,
sealed inside. The festerers.
She'd yell at them to stop it!
Felt better for it...
Bellowed, 'Swallow green!' whatever
the latest life extending fad -
she wanted to follow it - for her -
she said. Eat slow. Fast.
Sad, she supped with the best of them -
reminisced herself to sleep on evening cheer -
beat up, as she was, on regrets, or else
she'd sweat it out and cry till dawn -
alcoholic, bulimic, anorexic, glutton
for punishment, and hopelessly romantic.
Mended / broken. Well
meaning - ate good, tried kind, slept sound,
hoping something might come of the effort,
while Ernie, 80, could barely draw a breath
for fags and sucked his days; their pay away
on cheapest grog. Mean mouthed
taker, hater, beater, swearer...
Nourished on nothing but polluted air,
he refused to stop breathing, even though
the world about him longed
to bid his selfish soul bye bye! And She was
never going to die, was she?