Meeting His Match
He’s a Jones, likes to be kept up with,
lives to be imitated –
by disciples ripe for ridicule.
He stays ahead of the curve,
find friends to namedrop, track trends,
knows what form perfection takes each week.
Convinced he could coax her with his charm,
he can’t compute her coolness;
his perfect put-down packs no punch
delivered to a cold shoulder.
She waves him away, explains
she’s a Smith, can’t stand being followed.
If you have any thoughts on this poem, Ann Gibson would be
pleased to hear them.