Hey 19

It’s likely most of us have seen
Our last year that contains “19”
In any part of it. No sweat
For those whose longest-lived regret
Is Blue’s Clues leaving Steve behind
But we whose childhood’s defined
By when McDonald’s came to town
May grieve that 19’s going down.
When Steely Dan’s lament was sung
On first-run radio, his young
Companion was just half the age
She’d be before we turned the page
On what had been a hundred years
Of dates in which 19 appears;
Since Y2K there’s been just one
And come tomorrow, that one’s done.
Bye, 19. You’ve given plenty.
Welcome, all, to 2020.

Exit The Introvert

Clean-up from the holiday
It’s time to pack the kids away
To sweep the secrets back beneath
The rugs and burn the holly wreath
It’s been a [adjective here] week
The kind of contact we would seek
If we were social (which we’re not)
So smile and hug the way we’re taught
Approximate the grateful shape
And seal the crates with packing tape
Next year we’ll haul them out again
Keep working on those hugs till then

Not Starting Now

Traditionally, New Year’s Day’s
For setting goals to mend one’s ways
But making change is such a fight
That Boxing Day just seems more right.

I have a checkered history
With resolutions. Mystery
Surrounds the outcome not at all
Except the date on which I fall.

It’s not that I don’t try. I do!
I don’t know why it up I screw
But every year’s another blunder:
Set the hurdle low; duck under.

Once, I gave up self-control
But in the end I couldn’t pull
It off, and slid right back again
To sacrifice and discipline.

I think instead this Boxing Day
I’ll make an effort not to say
I will or won’t do anything
To change my ways!*

*At least till spring.