Government-Issued Glasses Poem

You’ve gotta get those government-issued glasses
even though you can pass
all the eye exams for your driver’s license.
Your passport was full of holograms,
and the stamps for France
stretched back to the Pleistocene.

Kimberly liked horses a little too much.
She was busted in the mulch
with some stable boy from the dark ages.
Her ovaries landed in the mud,
but she still had Amy Vanderbilt advice (you knew she would).

I’ll go sift through the seaweed for lunch
if the Viking anchors are still out on the beach.
Don’t think if you met her she’d care or be interesting,
especially considering your inability to lie
or make sure people are dead to you, just out of reach.