Obsolescence
.
After 48 years of loyal service and stellar performance,
They sent you packing… threw you out on the street… kicked you to the curb.
Didn’t even have the decency to throw you a party.
.
They said you didn’t fit the company’s image anymore. That you were a little dull.
That you were too plain for plain M&Ms.
.
There had always been talk that you were but a pale imitation of Mr. Brown M&M.
But for nearly 50 years you had quieted the critics
Because under that admittedly lackluster surface,
You were just as good… just as delicious as your colorful colleagues,
weren’t you, Mr. Tan M&M?
.
When the news came down they were going to have a contest to replace you,
Did you run off and whine to the media? Do you go out and get a high-priced lawyer?
Did you get all crazy and talk about bringing a gun to work?
.
No, you didn’t.
You came in and continued to do your job.
The big shots upstairs were a little chastened by your unflappable attitude
But they wanted you gone and the sooner, the better.
.
They wanted somebody with a little more flash, a little more panache.
It was the 90s after all,
And doing a good job just wasn’t good enough anymore.
.
The contest was a big success.
More than 10 million calls poured into a special 1-800 number
And Mr. Blue M&M triumphed over his purple and pink rivals.
.
That was 1995.
.
And for the next twenty-some years, we haven’t heard a peep about you.
No sightings on Florida beaches… or at Hollywood parties.
But that was never your style, was it?
You were always about blending into the background,
Holding your position until the right moment
And then providing a jolt of mingled sweetness
Before taking the plunge
Into total darkness.
.
The Smoker
.
don’t bother with such things
that’s what my old man would say
a camel in one hand
and a gunther’s in the other
sitting at the kitchen table
staring out at the tiny backyard
you’ve gotta be careful of your dreams
yeah, they can drive you
to do things you never thought possible
but they can break your heart, too
and then they can keep breaking your heart
until nothing’s left
he stubbed out the cigarette
grinding it
until it bent
right at the filter
and assumed
its pre-determined place
next to all the other
crushed, smashed, snuffed-out things
that filled that little round ashtray
.
Greg Colburn is a writer, collagist and printmaker. His work has been published in Inverted Syntax, the City Paper and Baltimore Sun. His poem “Brightness Born Afar” appeared in the recent collection––published by Moonstone Arts in Philadelphia––celebrating the life and art of Lawrence Ferlinghetti. He is the co-author––with his wife, the artist Bernadette Colburn––of an art and poetry chapbook titled, Beyond the Edges. Originally from Baltimore, he currently resides in Media, Pennsylvania.
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North of Oxford 