Camille at the Medicare Workshop

As the consultant
draws on his
flip chart,
blathers on
about drug plans,
deductibles,
Camille practices
five sets of kegels.
Craves margaritas
or martinis,
maybe a nooner.
Wishes her damp panties
were a reaction
to arousal
rather than laughter.
Observes saggy women,
pot-bellied men,
in the chair rows
around her.
Wonders why
65 juicy years
have ambushed
her patience,
tautness, libido.
Blows off
this workshop.
Sneaks out
the back door.
Fires up
a big doobie.

The Best Movie Around

Camille has a ring-side seat
in the No Mercy Saloon
at the end of the bar.
From here, she can watch
over-the-hill players as they ply
desperate divorcees in their forties,
twenty-something airheads
with umbrella drinks.

She has played a starring role
in similar romantic farces,
decides to sit this one out,
relax and observe.
Can mime common pick-up lines
and flirty responses.

Sees an older man on the
opposite side of the counter.
He too is taking a breather,
enjoying the movie.
Catches her eye, tips his glass,
smiles in amusement.

She feels something stir,
knocks back the last of her wine.
Already knows how it ends
but figures what the hell...
Accepts his kind offer of refill.