Old PeopleOld people should all be killed;
they’re as hard as Pyramids,
as the Mona Lisa and the Traviata.
They want to be coddled
not like children,
but the way water is added to a pot of beans
before the burning branch.
Old people are a nuisance;
secretly spying
on the young, envying them; if they can,
they throw a wrench
in everything, claiming they’re right.
Old people are gluttons
for grapes;
They open and close their mouths,
they get mired in the vinegar of memories,
they would break phones and trains to pieces.
You won’t catch old people
leaving the faucet running;
they are friends to the sun, toads
in cotton, they are capable
of letting the world die