If you twitch
in your seat
Will the world
give an inch
Not likely
You remain in
place
Yet ever so
slightly
Tectonically
shifted to the right
It happens as
you grow older
Plates of
perspective slide
Like greased
glass
You once smoked
weed under trees
At university
when education was free
And protest was
a luxury
Now you no
longer
Weep for the
spread of inequity
Only the spread
of your own arse
Your stomach
follows too
Protruding like
a balloon
Forcing you to
buy elastic waist pants
You hang around
malls
Wearing socks
with sandals
Watching
children with a creepy zeal
Not that you
mean harm
Just that pace
has outstripped you
Leaving you a
vampire
Feeding on your
own past
You watch the
stock market
Cooing over
your superannuation
As if the numbers
were real
All those
investment houses
And ironed seam
trousers
Are the
scaffolding for your generation
You had the
best of times
Now you pout
about the future
And wonder why
your children are frustrated
© shaun patrick
green 2016
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