I have to let it go.
It's not a workingman's truck, too pretty
but it is still a sweet ride.
Pain at the pump,
not getting any richer just older.
I got to bite the bullet,
squeeze into a squeezer.
I see a small hatchback in my future.
My wife puts on that face,
you know the one
"gloom and doom." She mouths silently,
and of course, I can see
she don't mean it.
It's not easy
keeping yourself together
when there is a part of you
hiding away still darkened
with fear. It's been curled up
there for years.
Then there's that other part
of you who can't keep still,
creating havoc as it charges
around your head
demanding answers, bulldozing
certainties until there is nothing left
except rubble strewn across
the mind.
Other parts play silly games,
or put you down or flicker
on and off in a constant state
of not knowing what to do.
They're the ones that stutter
on the lip of every day,
running down your batteries until
there's not much left of you.
You wake up
each morning feeling depleted
as if half of you has gone missing
in your sleep and what remains
is a bag of parts that no longer fit.
Like children you've given
each a name, fed and provided
them with shelter.
Worn out by the labors
of their want, you hope one day
they'll grow up and go. Then,
you can think about downsizing
into the less cluttered spaces
of the real you.
Strong winds of time accelerate with age,
sweep toward the unsuspecting,
forging alliances with atrophy and arthritis,
debilitating the innocent.
The hurricane of decline begins with gusts,
barely noticed in years of productivity.
But without warning gusts become streams.
Streams turn into torrents.
Torrents, tsunamis,
opening submission's door.
Downsizing's time has arrived.
Stuff is now a dearest friend,
space the greatest enemy
in this geriatric ritual.
Time laughs at tears,
celebrates pain
as each treasured object
is evaluated in unsteady fingers.
Piece by piece is slated for separation
and taken away by unfeeling hands.
The enemy has won.
In her dreams she discovered Apollo
Fast asleep in an enchanted hollow
From the beat of her heart
She awoke with a start
For Apollo was too much to swallow!
You start by throwing things out
packing things that will fit
in a smaller place, selling stuff
that won’t, ignoring the birds
because the seed’s run out
not weeding the garden
you won’t see bloom, then
finding a home for the dog
which is almost as tough as
watching your last child accept
a diploma and wave good-bye
get on a plane and leave home.
Donal Mahoney
Getting laid off from my top notch job
since the company decided to downsize,
couldn't afford my mansion anymore,
had so much furniture, computers, tvs
and cars that were worth a fortune,
unfortunately all had to be
sold at an auction,
finally got another job
at McDonald's at minimum wage,
instead of being the fat cat,
now I'd become the slave,
my new house was being built
and was known as a "tiny" home,
only 400 square feet and
barely big enough for one,
got another vehicle because
didn't want to take the bus,
it was one of those smart cars
that was really good on gas,
only problem was when I
got my smart car and my
new tiny house,
I forgot to downsize myself
because of the size of my 400 lb. girth!
Three Shiny haired sisters
Essence of life stored in boxes
Found their voice in the church of a solar flare
Through years of searching and choosing
Dividing and coveting
Eyes were opened to examine the story
Carried on the spine of our grandmothers
The limbs of our father
The wings of our mother
Breathless from a voyage of the clan
We held hands dancing a sister ring
Around the boxes
That had to be emptied and relabeled
Before sunrise
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