Crisis

"Forty Blog" is the title for a series of poems I started writing the year I turned forty. Below is number IV in the Forty Blog series, which I hope to have in the new collection.

This poem is an example of a more formal style in its use of rhyme and meter as well as the consistent use of four line stanzas known as quatrains.

Crisis

Now I guess I got here with no vices

Besides that new one called a crisis

And no it will not end in divorce

So long as I drive this shiny red Porsche.

My job is not very manly,

And the bank account exists but scantily,

And fees and penalties and charges

Those could fill many many barges.

But most humiliating of all is this expanding spare tire,

The one that brings forth the wife’s disgust and ire,

Her glances and pokes upon my belly

She thinks I am awful and profoundly smelly.

So when I’m in my Porsche again,

Thinking of younger days filled with friends

To golf and games and beers we dashed

Never knowing forty could bring this crash.

But I’ll keep going it’s what I do,

For fifty is coming that much is true.

I'll use these years to gain grace and wisdom,

Starting in that Porsche where I sought freedom;

And work my job and work my job and work my job,

And dress a bit less like a slob,

And make some friends and shake some hands,

All the while working on my tan!