Home » Poems » Marc O'Brien » 15,30, 45 and Being Alive

15,30, 45 and Being Alive

I sit here  

With a pint a cheer  

Wondering about the number thirty  

Avoiding not being dirty  

It was fifteen years ago  

As you all know  

I was on top  

Thanks a lot  

To someone who gave me a shot  

Brandy, they said what it was  

And I was now feeling the buzz  

But as it wore off  

I found myself having a hiccup not a cough  

Phone stopped to ring  

Going back to being a pauper not a king  

Now I will ponder what’s to come  

Should I have a goal to dream like a bum  

Relying on memories that were fun  

Securely realizing I am just riding into the setting sun  

Or do I interpret the next fifteen  

Continuing acting being a teen  

Or profiting in this desperate scheme  

Asking, ‘where should I venture?’  

Gritting my teeth not wanting any dentures  

Fifteen years from now  

I will take my final bow  

Then I will address  

If my life was truly a mess  

That is when my antagonist will confess  

Unless  

This test  

Results in I am doing my best  

Yes, what a wonderful thirty-year window  

Open it up and show  

Celebrating everything I think I know  

And dependent on how I say the word ‘whoa’

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