Bri's Edited & Reactivated: 3-Minute Novel: ….[ Depression; Mid-Life Crisis; Porn ] Poem by Bri Edwards

Steve lived alone. His wife had up and left him,
and gone away with a widowed neighbor, ...Paul.
Steve and Jane's marriage never was too great,
and their fights had increased five-fold of late.

Oh, he was not alone completely. There was Tim,
an Irish Setter; a smart dog, he remained there still.
And Steve had his music, his own and many CDs.
He played his piano, and ‘classical' put him at ease.

Smoking a little ‘pot' helped him 'mellow out' too.
But on a ‘bad day' he'd descend the creaky stairs,
to his cellar bar/den to savor some 10-year scotch,
and watch an hour of porn, .....his hand in his crotch.

He didn't take Tim with him, and he'd speak softly...
to the girls on the screen who were sometimes in pairs,
as they pleasured themselves and men older than they.
And with his sex organ in his hand, Steve would then play.

He lived on 'take-out food' and microwaved dinners,
and cereal, & sandwiches, bananas, and iced tea.
He worked from home, was a playwright of note,
kept to himself, & chain-smoked a pipe as he wrote.

Yes, in his career several plays were big winners.
Even for some ‘losers' he still collected a good fee.
But the years had worn him down, as well as Jane.
Jane used to scream: 'You're driving us both INSANE! '

He never denied it. It was most probably true.
Now with Jane gone, he could sense his ending.
He'd pondered his problem, considered a 'shrink',
but he scorned being told how he should ever think.

Only his agent or lawyer ever called, just those two.
HIs 'screen-girls' helped, but each was, in fact, a stranger.
Then one night he drank his last scotch; his future was plain.
In his 'Best Cellar', ....a bullet smashed through Steve's brain.


(January ….10 & 11 …..2019)

(Deactivated, then edited and Reactivated May 2022)