My arm at night,
a thing studied in a dusty room.
A classroom, a schoolmaster,
I act like a cat.
Dessert bakes stress,
bad credit, no debit.
Clapping my card on the table
“Did you know that eleven plus two=twelve plus one?”

They see, the eyes.
Who said funerals feel fun?
Remote, unrested, a meteor as I throw it.
Remote? Meals for one, alone,
sweep the floor, a handful of helpers,
words wrinkle older and wiser.

A video game demo.
Lad, not so young.
He’s an unsung old guy,
coins clinking in his pocket.

Lynne Kemen lives in the Great Western Catskills of Upstate New York. Her chapbook, More Than A Handful (Woodland Arts Editions), was published in October 2020. Five of her poems appeared in Seeing Things Anthology, Robert Bensen, Ed. She is on the Board of Bright Hill Press in Treadwell, NY.