Midlife Crisis request/Disappointment

[angabel.livejournal.com]

Going through a midlife crisis. Send help. Poems help. Thank you.

Disappointment

I was feeling pretty religious
standing on the bridge in my winter coat
looking down at the gray water:
the sharp little waves dusted with snow,
fish in their tin armor.

That's what I like about disappointment:
the way it slows you down,
when the querulous insistent chatter of desire
goes dead calm

and the minor roadside flowers
pronounce their quiet colors,
and the red dirt of the hillside glows.

She played the flute, he played the fiddle
and the moon came up over the barn.
Then he didn't get the job, —
or her father died before she told him
that one, most important thing—

and everything got still.

It was February or October
It was July
I remember it so clear
You don't have to pursue anything ever again
It's over
You're free
You're unemployed

You just have to stand there
looking out on the water
in your trench coat of solitude
with your scarf of resignation
lifting in the wind.

-- Tony Hoagland

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[duathir.livejournal.com]

Thursday

Gave yet another lecture. God, I'm boring.
Said all the same old things I've said before
With touches of 'however-ing' and 'therefore-ing'.
Dear God, it's true, I'm just an ancient bore.

If only I could tap my old exuberance,
High spirits that I plied in days of yore,
Then maybe I would find a kind deliverance
From the curse of being such a bloody bore.

For I'm the model of a modern academic.
I'm absolutely super at ennui.
I'm just stunning when it comes to a polemic,
And boredom's snoredom's what I guarantee.

I'm putting extra pennies in my pension.
Retirement beckons and the garden calls,
That beautiful, botanical dimension
Where boilersuited pensioners scratch their balls.

But I've a problem, and it's called 'work ethic', so
I'll slog on with the daily, dreary toil.
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, what a lousy way to go,
To work all day then burn the midnight oil.

By Douglas Dunn