MID-LIFT CRISIS




Just as an iridescent butterfly
shakes free from its communal tent
and to its former self dies,
so I emerge, at last content
(children choofed off to uni residence,
hubby busy married to Life Insurance),
set to spread diaphanous wings
and fly the groves of higher learning:
kundalini, prana, tai-ching . . .
Guilt, where is thy sting?

            GOING  UP                                                    GOING  DOWN

                                                                        i’m lousing up, losing my zip,
                                                                        my hair, my prostate, even my grip.
                                                                        Promotion blown, kids’ve flown,
                                                                        the wife’s confidence grown & grown.
                                                                        She knows she’s still quite a dish.
                                                                        Skippers her own perfume biz but
                                                                        scuppers home.  Says i’m not her keeper.
                                                                        Sure, i’ve taken a dip & slipping deeper:
                                                                        kippers & chips, nips of gin,
                                                                        carpet slippers wearing thin
                                                                                                & i’m hearing drip
drip
drip
                       

                                                                                                            Michael Small
January 22, 1994

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