Poemdog

Dogs 2018

MILD MIDLIFE PANIC
(10/20/18)


day
done

finally
in bed

I open
a book
from my favorite
author

as usual
I look first
at the back
dust cover

a left handed
thing
perhaps

read
the review
excepts

then
the short bio
on the
inside

he died
at 73

I think
about that age
being only
14 years
away
for me

not many
after all
the rest
gone

what
have I
done?

not
much

I am
still here

I've got
that
going
for me

but nothing
else
to show
for 59 years

no noteworthy
accomplishments

no great
love
in my life

just
a minor
vocation
to grind through
the days
alone

take
what is
given

and be
grateful
for that

definitely
not
an adventurer

a creator

or an
innovator

only
a minimal
survivor

a taxpayer

my sole
contribution
to society
at this point

is that
it?

continue
along
until I become
a matter
of cleanup?

disposal?

I'm not
sure
what else
is to be done
at this
late date

I'm smart
enough
to know what
passes
as success
in this society

it's only
a question
of choosing
something

doing
the deal

but I don't
want to spend
what time
is left

merely seeking
recognition

acceptance

approval

what
then?

simply
live

I guess

breathe

hope
that some
true target
becomes
apparent

something
to focus upon
with a feverish
intensity
because I know
in my soul
that it is
the right thing
to do

until
that time
I wait

I read
a dozan
pages

put
the book
down

turn off
the light

hopeful
that the morning
will come

the routine
will return

and I will
have purpose
once again

with nary
a moment
to despair
over unrealized
destiny