?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

"The Bachelor" by Leslie Monsour

The Bachelor

No family pictures on the wall, no books,
A drafting desk, a travel magazine;
No children, one divorce, a satellite dish—
A cold, efficient exercise machine,

And in the corner with the firewood, stacks
Of videos. The fridge comes with "lite" beer
And non-fat milk for the granola stored
In jars. I've looked, but there's no sugar here.

Platoons of running shoes camp by the door;
His Boston fern, neglected, pays the price;
His one unfriendly cat purposefully saunters
Across the threshold, searching hard for mice.

As he begins to age, and his gray beard
Inaugurates the thinning of his hair,
He'll pale with each sensation in his chest,
Each flutter, every pain and numbness there—

No cardiologist, nor any chart
Will ever find the trouble with his heart.

-Leslie Monsour

Tags:

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
newlifeinstpaul
Aug. 7th, 2007 04:29 pm (UTC)
That makes me kinda sad.

I do have the running shoes, you know.
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )