Self-Fulfilling Prophecy Poem by Laurence Overmire

Little Boy Bob
Turned 20
Smoked a joint with his headphones on
Said
I’m supposed to live it up, find some chicks and drink some beer.
So he did.

Little Boy Bob
Hit 30
Sat on his couch eating cheese doodles and fries
Said
I’m supposed to settle down, get fat and buy a lawnmower.
So he did.

Little Boy Bob
Neared 40
Stuck in a phone booth in the pouring rain
Said
I’m supposed to go through a mid-life crisis, get a divorce and go bald.
So he did.

Little Boy Bob
Reached 50
Soaked up some sun by the swimming pool
Said
I’m supposed to be wealthy and successful and taking cruises ‘round the world.
And he was.

Little Boy Bob
Topped 60
Waited on line to get his prescription filled
Said
I’m supposed to retire, feel old and useless and collect social security.
And he did.

Little Boy Bob
Passed 70
Lay in a bed with a tube stuck in his arm.
Said
I’m supposed to shrivel up and die and not have the faintest idea what it was all about.
And he didn’t.


(Previously published in CER*BER*US, XXXVI,2000)