Sometimes you don’t want to go out
What’s there to do, really?
There are only two roads out of town
and your feet know them by heart.
You’ve visited the stores on the Avenue
repeatedly and worry the help will think
you have no life, which is true but you prefer
they not come to that conclusion yet.
Your car is tired of driving to the same places:
the supermarket, Home Depot, your sister’s group home.
The dogs on the street don’t acknowledge your existence
the geese and goslings are not scared of you
and neither is that gang of boys riding
chopped bikes past without notice.
Almost all relationships have become long distance
affairs, and we know what happens to them.
You gaze at everyone and everything
and are somewhat amazed that gaze
has become a dirty word.
Funerals are not that important
You’ve curated your funeral the past 30 years
down to the set list, the guest list,
and who gets to read a poem.
What’s important is the sense of loss
felt by those you’ve left behind.
You’re a romantic at heart passing your hours
with what if’s, should’ves and why nots.
You have finally come to understand
nobody’s as happy as they are on Facebook
nobody’s as angry as they are on Twitter
nobody’s as beautiful as they are on Instagram
Everyone’s as desperate as they seem…
You don’t ask for much
a walk through Central Park on a sunny day
sharing a bottle of wine with friends at an outdoor cafe
Jacob deGrom throwing strikes against the Braves
orchestra seats for a new Tom Stoppard play
new pathways of thought as you continue to age
no more envy of Instagram poets’ accolades
fresh declarations of love graffitied on the Palisades
this God Damn imposter syndrome to fade away.
Recognizing the bewildered smile on a lost friend’s face.