THE OLD NEWSPAPER
All of us are newspaper reporters,
telling our
story,
selling our
story,
trying to
catch
the other’s
eye,
reporting to
others
that we’ve
been to Europe and Hawaii ,
that we have
three grandchildren,
that we have
a cousin in California
with a $750,000
home,
and therefore
please read
that I’m
okay,
that I’m not
a failure.
And sometimes when we begin
to really
trust another reader,
we begin to
report our failures,
our sad
stories,
about our
kids who dropped out,
about
divorces and drinking
in the
family,
and how it
all makes us feel so small.
And all of us know
what it feels
like
to be
misread,
or what’s
worse,
to be
rejected,
to have
someone
just look at
our headlines
and then be
thrown onto a pile,
or to be used
to wrap the garbage
or for cat
litter.
And all of us are part of every robbery and rape,
and all those
stories
in Dear Abby
or Dear Ann,
stories of
wives being used,
and husbands
being rejected,
and
teen-agers being sent to bed’
right in the
middle of their
favorite TV
show,
story after
story on insensitivity.
And all of us know the feeling
of being used
as paper
to line the
bottom drawer,
hoping that
someday,
somebody will
pick us up and say,
“Hey, look at
this old paper.
Let’s see
what it has to say.”
© Andy Costello Reflections, 2015