Friday, January 15, 2016

poem of the day 01.15.16

mistaken identity

he hands me
a senior citizen bus pass
with a blurry photo on it
and says, this isn’t me

sure enough it’s not
it’s another old white guy
but it’s hard to tell the difference
if you aren’t really looking

he says, you gave me back the wrong i.d.

we take i.d. here
in exchange for newspapers
and there’s no other i.d. in the box

i don’t have your i.d., i tell him

well, who does? he says

most likely the other guy, i say

he looks around the room
like he’s trying to spot a terrorist

where is he? he asks

probably on the bus, i say

what am i gonna do? he asks

use his i.d. and take the bus too

he says, he could be doing anything with my i.d.
creating a fake credit card
ordering plane tickets

joining facebook

he’s probably on the bus, i say

can you call him? he asks

so i look up the number and dial
no luck

old white men and me
we’re the last people on the planet
without cell phones

and i can’t wait until i get my free bus pass

he hands me the i.d. and says
well, i can’t do anything with this

he walks out of the building like a zombie
like someone has stolen his life

and maybe they have

but not five minutes pass
before the other one walks in
like he’s never been in the joint before

he’s holding the controversial senior citizen bus pass
like a soiled tissue

throwing it on the desk
he points at the blurry picture of the other old codger
like he’s seen a ghost

hands shaking he says
i don’t think that’s me.

i hand him back his correct i.d.
but he stares at it, as if he’s not sure
that’s the right one either

then he walks out of the building
looking from the i.d. to the image of himself
in the glass doors

not really sure of anything



1 comment:

Thomas Thomas said...

We get a bit forgetful in our old age.