Nobody Likes the Elderly

The air will get close and heavy in the house
And we will learn that you cannot be trusted
To switch off the burner under the teapot, or even to stick around.
You will realize you have the wrong limbs, wrong faces
And that some of your parts will come off or out,
Which you will ask us to retrieve for you from containers.

The old fevered battle of love-making is reduced
to a low-grade bicker.
Monday you were politely escorted
out of the grocery store.
And silver is left on your pillows
like V05-scented straw.

Her jaw will thicken like his;
His thighs will soften like hers.
The chlorophyll of manners will drain into the ground,
Revealing that the yellow of annoyance, the orange of disgust,
And the red of rage were always there.
Then we will place our hands on the clammy backs of your necks:
You will recognize that you no longer belong here.