A North American Middle-Class Life Poem by Francie Lynch

A North American Middle-Class Life


The kids are gone,
The puppies too,
I'm on my own
What will I do?

No bells to alarm
My peaceful bedroom,
My career is done
In the classroom,
In the Office,
And the Boardroom.

I have a home,
My very own,
To tinker with
As I please.
So I re-model
Every room,
Then move on
To Noon.

I'll make some tea,
Have a smoke,
Write a rhyme,
Have a toke.
Let's move on to One,
There's still much
To be done.

By Three o'clock
I've cleaned the car,
Revved the Shadow,
Swept the floor.
Now what's
In store for Four.

By Five o'clock
I'm wearing socks,
By Six I've eaten
Frozen pizza:
Life is grand this way;
I haven't got
A dish to do,
And if I did,
Well, not today.

By Seven,
I'm relaxed again
To pen, and smoke
And toke til Ten,
Then play guitar
Like there's no when...

By Mid-night
My day is spent,
I haven't squandered
One red cent.
My pension keeps me
In my home,
I haven't got
The means to roam.

Don't get me wrong,
I'm not poor,
I really couldn't
Ask for more
Than a welcome
Knock on my
Locked door.

My mid-life
Middle-class gripe;
Void of bends
And wends:
Is this the path
To my world's end?