The moment was manufactured Born from the cliché of an old movie I was summoned to see her For our final performance. I was not her Rock Hudson Just an extra in the background Edited from the celluloid for being unnecessary. She cried convincingly Diving into shaking palms Velvet pools made mascara flow From black to gray Stripping the bronze from her marshmallow cheeks. Her protean emotions surfaced Changing like the tides of El Nino, The calm that turned to tempest, She shouted and she screamed With reason impaled on her forked tongue. She had found someone younger A sycophantic failed magazine pin up Who emptied bins on Tuesday dawn The type that talked slang With yellowed fingers, From smoking King size to stub. I someone older missed the routine, Meals fixed for certain days My chair that faced the rolling fields Listening to her chant ‘Jerry Jerry’ But at the end of the day in retrospect I have come to accept, That living alone is great company.