A poem for today's dilemma

From a story I heard at Panera's today. I meet the most interesting people.

Health Insurance Woes

Look at me strut
and show off my stuff.
Can you see my thong?
It's not so tough.

I can barely move--
my jeans are so tight,
And guys look at me so,
now, that just ain't right!

At the top of my grade
and the job is secure,
three kids and a guy,
my home life is sure.

Except for my shape--
He wants implants for me!
Would S-CHIP cover it?
I think I'll go see.

Cross posted at Collecting my thoughts.

Prose Poem

This was an assignment for Poetry Thursday--write a prose poem. So here's the background, and it is cross-posted at Collecting my thoughts.

We had a mini-blizzard (really hit northwest and south of Columbus) with snow, then hours of sleet, and then more snow overnight. Most schools and many businesses closed. So going to the coffee shop Wednesday morning at 6 a.m. was a challenge just to back out of my drive-way; it was dark and cold and I had the streets to myself. I drafted this there, and rewrote and revised at home. The more I revised, the less prose-like it became. If you’re not a regular reader here, it’s just about a coffee shop on a snowy day. Now here’s the poem:

Come sit by the fire with me. Sit by the gas flames rising from fake logs. Warm us bright blaze in the dark by the pseudo-bricks as we tip Styrofoam cups with plastic lids, sip black brew browned with cream factory made. Animate brain cells, stir up stiff tongues tropical beans, red and bright when picked by dark hands, traveling on tankers guided by pale hands to bring us warmth and happy thoughts, brown after roasting in mills and bursting to dark beans, trucked by many hands along concrete interstates and asphalt by-ways to loading docks at dark coffee shops. Come sit by the fire with me in the dark, tasting warmth, watching the snow fall on icy lines--pity the bird toes--sending power to heat water piped and purified, dripping hot in the pot held by ethnic hands that fill my cup which warms my nose by the fire where we sit.

A very trusting group

Today I stopped at a Starbucks after running some errands. Most of the people in the seating area appeared to be OSU students--maybe 18-23 years old--all but one with laptops on the table. I could overhear the phone conversations of the men in front and behind me. One young lady across from me was well-mannered and took her cell phone calls out side--and it is bitterly cold today. However, I noticed when she went to the rest room in the back of the store (a long way from seating because it is a very long, narrow room) she left her bag with her laptop and purse open on the chair, her i-pod on the table, and her cell phone sitting on top of her text books. Another young lady came blowing in the door about the time the other one left, settled her self at a table, putting her huge bag with computer and books on the floor, and walked to the back (completely out of sight of the seating area) to place her order. I either look like a security guard or a very safe old lady.

What I heard at the Starbucks

I hear ya talking
on your new cell phone.
I hear ya talking
with your rockin' ring tone.

You talk and you talk,
what could be so grand?
You talk and you talk
about tonight's party plan.

Flirting with the ladies,
calling two or four.
Flirting with the ladies,
They should toss you out the door.

I hear ya talking,
You're a lonely S.O.B.
I hear ya talking,
with tears in your cold coffee.