In Which An Old Pal Turns 30: Waka Waka Waka

Can it be thirty years since we first learned
A hungry man can live on yellow dots?
How many million quarters have been burned
To hear the waka waka? Must be lots!
I ever was a duffer at this game;
One only was there in my little town
And that where I dared not go, to my shame --
The high school kids were scary, hangin' down
At the convenience store, when it was new.
Now where the arcade games were, you will find
A low-rent humidor of cigarettes.
I wasn't totally deprived, though, mind:
I too wasted much time with no regrets.
I had to go to Rawlins, that was all
And play at Roller City. 'Twas a ball.

In Which I Lose Ignominiously To Three Female Authority Figures From My Past

The new Mah Jong card for 2009
Was extra-new to me as I sat down.
My Girl Scout leader and dear Mother Mine
And Mrs. B, a sub of some renown
All grinned at me like three sharp Mah Jong sharks.
And so did our first Charleston portend:
They passed the tiles and made their tart remarks
At speed while I was left to just pretend
I'd found a pattern with which I could win.
Each game I did at last find something like
A playable plan, but my own dear kin
Or life-long mentors gleefully would strike,
And dis-tile quite instinctively the tiles
I needed to outwit their wily wiles.

With Thanks to my Mother for Showing Me These Time Sinks

I never thought that I would see a fish
Suspended from a tree or picture frame.
But then one day I made a fateful wish
Online and found a hidden object game.
Nor did I think I'd lose so damned much time
Just sitting there and staring at the screen.
But now, alas, just such a fate is mine.
I scrutinize and squint at every scene
Trying to find the necklace and skateboard,
The mushroom and the chainsaw and the bed.
A mass of vines may just conceal a gourd,
But then again, perhaps a monkey's head...
Insomnia finds me often, but it seems
I've found a substitute for my missed dreams.