Elevator Man

At first, all I see is mullet,

not the fellow passenger

joining me for the ride,

just the haircut

circa 1980, and I am

eighteen again

in a red and black jumpsuit,

mosh-pit bouncing

to Oingo Boingo,

sweat-soaked and hip-happy,

low mileage, full tank,

still under warranty,

my wide-open life

stretching before me—

anything, everything

TBD, impossibly possible.

For a four-floor ascent

I am she of the big-hair don’t-care,

grey matter turned technicolor,

pogoing and body-slamming

to Danny Elfman’s

punk-meets-pop beat.

What weird science

memory is—

this hair-triggered

time travel to the OG me.

How I have missed her!

The elevator doors open

to just another day,

and the man with the mullet

gestures for me to exit first.

Beaming bright as a strobe light, I say Thanks.

Author’s note: The following Oingo Boingo song titles appear in this poem: “Elevator Man,” “Sweat,” “Grey Matter,” “Weird Science,” and “Just Another Day.” No passengers were hurt during the slam dancing of this memory.

Ann Weil’s poetry appears in Best New Poets 2024, Pedestal Magazine, RHINO, Chestnut Review, 3Elements Review, and elsewhere. Author of Lifecycle of a Beautiful Woman (Yellow Arrow, 2023) and Blue Dog Road Trip (Gnashing Teeth, 2024), Weil is a former special education teacher and four-time Pushcart nominee who lives in Michigan and California.