Issue 9

Autumn 2013



Old man, I should be flattered, but I’m not,
although it’s true
that compliments for me these days are few
and never were a lot.

With half a chance you’d eat me up, you say.
What else is new?
It’s only ever dried-up husks like you
give me the time of day.

Up close I’m younger than I may appear.
The inner me,
a girl you and my mirror cannot see,
holds out for Richard Gere.



Carol A Taylor