POEM: Rocking Chair

Rocking Chair

I bought a rocking chair
from a lovely little farmhouse.
I bought it to have somewhere to sit
and also because I want to skip this part
and go straight to being old.
I want to collect my little check
from the government and sit
rocking while I read a book.
I’ll need a bright lamp.
(I need a bright lamp now.)
The words shrink as I get older.

I don’t want to do this next bit.
The part that keeps me alive until
the provisions made for old age take over.
I always joke that my retirement plan
is death, but I think I might get some
good years in as an old man before that.
But this part? Alone again and working
and giving money to a landlord?
This part you can keep.
In 11 months I’ll drive to Kentucky,
throw myself on the mercy of the
Abbey of Gesthemani,
see if it’s not too late to discover
reserves of piety I’ve kept hidden
even from myself.

For now I’ll watch the bumblebees,
listen to two guys talk about the Red Sox,
and dream of a time when all this is over.

/ / /

15 April 2023
Charlottesville VA