I found this piece of writing from a few years ago. I can still relate – how about you?
Ode to the Single Life
Oh late nights of nachos and beer in bed
Day old underwear, and hair not combed on your head
Weave gently this melancholy from one day to the next
Play the sad songs too loud. Repetition. Repetition.
What scent does this late mid-week night bring
leaving the dark theatre; popcorn, sweat, stale seats?
Week old champagne in a tumbler still bubbles.
Without this time, so much time, long minutes of night
who would discover these things? Who would care about famous indiscretions?
Tight skirts or pressed shirts, tossed – wine or beer soaked
to the floor, virgin to the touch of anyone but the wearer.
The shirt, The pants, The outfit that makes you sparkle
Stares you in the eye in the morning. Too much money. Too much effort.
Waking ashamed of your rendezvous with fashion that matters not
Who are you coupledom? What GPS guides us there?
Forever wandering, mass consumers of individual satisfaction,
just one drink, one purchase, one book or coffee away
from fulfilled enlightenment; That magic spark that will illuminate this journey
Dreaming of forever, locked into domestic bliss
The dank beer shirts and wine stains give way to order
tea towels, tidy linen closets and matching drapes.
Nachos and beer sulk in the guest room
The bedroom – the “master suite” matures into
a haven of other things besides sensuality and passion;
Snoring, flatulence, vapour rub , laughter and tears
Oh single life! So fleeting. So agonizingly rich
this experience of self in the gaseous state.
No form or order. Just being – curious, free and all alone.
What is this love? This seeking and rescue of the other
locked away in that fairy tale turret.
While I’m here. Wash me in your Smirnoff, polish me with Segura
And promise you will remain beautiful and fleeting.