Friday Night Crisis Sonnet

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In the midst of psychosis I stayed home

Instead of going out – to write this poem.

Well, it’s just that I’m too old for this life.

By now, I assumed I’d be someone’s wife.


Tucked away in my job and my house, with

Babies in bed. Years slipped down like this fifth

Tucked in the bed. Age came before wisdom,

Confidence before fall, love before schism.


Right at the midpoint before sink or swim,

Finale or third act, the lights still dim…


(I assure you, the fifth is a poetic device…]

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