I gather it has more to do with a lack of dignified poise

than whatever statement was made, but I don't subscribe

to dignity-- that's one of the luxuries of my generation--

no pride to hurt

No foundation, not a conquered-earth patio, no cocktails,

just rewards from ancestral-work, cumulative. I gather

because no one knew about communication outside

of parties and bars until after the wall came down, and then

only for a minute, and not again until after Wall St. came down.

Such toys, a toy revolution!

Products of decades, each their own unit,  repetitive twelvemonth,

Dementia pugilistica, refilling their own script with annual character

and Reagan's plastic wig and office Christmas party rape charges

and the silent witness under duress. 

They aren't interchangeable, image and text,

not in the interface of business sickness

but they're mine to alter, without grace or balance,

emotional, most importantly, which is what gets all the boos.

The scolding scoff and sneer, contributing to the problem

A pill the size of an airplane and fuel for thirty days, transition

to musical and dinner-dancing all the way to the top

and out the bay window people like to write about