The Old Coot

When I get up with aches and pains and realize that I have been outdistanced by technology, I think of a poem I wrote some years ago.  I hope you can relate.

No More Vent Windows

I drove through the historic district

and realized I grew up there.

At a recent business meeting

a young associate said,

“Pawpaw, I think that’s your beeper going off.”

A guy cut me off in traffic today.

I called him a “moron”,

but, realized by modern standards

it was not harsh enough.

In my younger days

I would have chased him down

and jerked his pointy head through

the vent window.

There are no more vent windows.

Dennis Price