I perforated the sentiments and memories
While you punched another card
I grasped for another verse
As I waited in the car.
I wasn't ready for your idea
Of the "nearly-perfect" life
Your credit union career
Or starched white reports and clothes
The clack-click-clack of heels
From nine until two
Or the teller statements
And yellowing deposit slips
That replaced the freedom of our youth."
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