Growing Up
So lucky they used to say,
and it was when it was rare.
But now there’s way too much gray
in the thinning crop of hair.
And why must you now choose here
of all the places to grow?
Count it all a little queer
to trim an earlobe, I know.
My Ladies
Something I’ve learned in my house of ladies,
besides approved placement of toilet seats,
the general disdain for the Eighties,
and the burning desire to share tweets,
is the mystery of long curly hair.
Surely by now they should be going bald,
as again I unclog drains in despair
and stare at the vacuum roller appalled.
Please Turn Off Your Cell Phone
We’re not landing planes
in my exam room.
Or directing trains,
no one would assume.
Just hoping for tact,
when your friend beckons.
But alas, you choose to react
after a few awkward seconds
with head down and pointer finger extended,
feels like its neighbor is what you intended.
Nicholas Froumis practices optometry in the Bay Area. His writing has appeared in Right Hand Pointing, Dime Show Review, Snapdragon: A Journal of Art & Healing, Ground Fresh Thursday, Balloons Lit Journal, Short Tale 100, TWJ Magazine, The Society of Classical Poets Journal, Calvary Cross, and Touch: The Journal of Healing. He lives in San Jose, CA with his wife, novelist Stacy Froumis, and their daughter.
It’s comforting to learn that I share the same emerging relationship with my earlobes that you do – most elegantly expressed!
The perspective of “Growing Up” — instead of “Growing Old” — has me grinning hairy earlobe to earlobe.
Regarding Growing Up, as I get old perhaps you do as well, I notice my eyebrows go haywire too.