Worn out, worn down

Beat up

Thrown out

Hunched over – with a

Who the hell are you?

Look in

Their eyes.

But stood up

And showed up –

At least

For the evening.

Some still bothered

To  put

On suits, sport

Coats, a few even

Wore ties. They

Moved around

Looking at photo

Name tags then up

To the real deal,

Back and forth

Back and forth,

Up and down,

Up and down and

Then moved on.

Vietnam vets,

Small animal vets

And those who

Made a lot of

Bets. They all

Laughed loudly.

Women had become

Their grandmothers

Hanging laundry

In their house

Dresses on

The back porch

Of their

South-side walk-ups –

Except the cheer-

leaders

Who all married

And divorced

Well and could

Afford stylish evening

Suits,

Plastic surgery

And lots and lots

Of makeup and

Jewelry —

South suburban

Kids, white flight

Babies back to

No hair

But not baby

Skin. Deep

Crevasses tears

Wore down and

Eroded to the

Soul. Did they tell

Their stories

around the

The dinner tables

Or did

They just settle

For passing out

Business cards

Still looking

To make

The big sale

While laughing

And staring —

As

Bowls

Of baked

Chicken, Mustacholi,

Mounds of Italian

Sausage

Next to

Bigger mounds

Of mashed potatoes

Were passed

Around along

With

Rolls, lots and lots

And lots of hard

Crusted rolls?

But not much

Booze –

Many had already

Floated battleships

In Popov and

TenHigh

And jumped

On the wagon.

Others just jumped

Ship, submerged in

The sauce and had

Their high school

Photos

On display

Among the dearly

Departed

Who got a moment’s

Silence while

Attendees stared

At their last

Spoonsful of Spumoni,

Fifteen minutes

Before the tables

Were shoved back

And the DJ blared

Into the mike,

“Good evening,

Ladies and

Gentlemen.”