Unrelated Partners

After a week that saw work rise with full force,
Unwanted comments about the hardness of whatever
From a work colleague, and an old lady
Putting her hand just above my butt and saying,
“Don’t back up, I coming in,”
I thought my Friday morning run
Might be simple and quiet,
An easy jaunt away from the weirdness
Surrounding my job.

Then, unrelated partners,
Moments of whim,
Conflagrations of inappropriateness,
And expressions of people’s overdeveloped
Senses of importance rose with the sun.

Friday became hypocritical…
Here they are,
The different things, out of sequence,
There for the hash taggers,
There for posterity,
Not posteriors, no matter the copy machine harassments.

I.

Ex mayor political expertise
At using hashtag comments with impunity
As needle moving provocations
To get hugs without allowing
Juice to get all over his dapper threads.

II.

Cold air brings nipples out
With their underdeveloped toughness
Succumbing to the abrasive ways
Of supercharged fabrics
That scrape and chaff
Like cheese graters on blocks of cheddar.

III.

Old men, no longer oozing testosterone
Angry at their inability to rise,
Getting mad at everything, unable to appreciate
The sweat and all juice has to offer.
Instead, dude should chill, age like a fine whisky,
Retaining its bite, curating a fire
So when the old plumbing finally falters
And the days are few,
Happiness still has a chance

IV.

“White people do that shit!”
The quote of the morning,
An observation straight from Puerto Rico
Said in the way only a Latina could express
About the ways of marriage and divorce
In the fairer skinned culture.
I would never dare to deny, nor suggest about others
With the same toned descriptions
For my people have long lost the right
To make stereotypical jokes
Outside of our troubled history.

V.

Duran Duran chimed in, “Mouth is alive, juices like wine,”
Just as Snoop did, offering,
“Rollin down the street, smokin indo, sipping gin and juice,”
Innuendo ruling the morning,
Enema inducing bike seat discussion
Peppered between the later-in-the-morning work day traffic.

That was enough for me,
Twelve hours later, I fell asleep sitting up on the couch.
Can’t wait for next week.

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