garage

He sits in his garage beside the house;
Sometimes he’s fat and other times quite thin.
You wonder if he just can’t stand his spouse,
Or if perhaps his spouse just can’t stand him.

The impetus to sit alone I question;
Is there some problem he is trying to solve?
I wonder if he’d hear a short suggestion,
And go inside before his shorts dissolve.

Varieties of men are solitary
In many tasks like writing, it’s allowed
But sitting lonesome on your derry-airy ‘s
not only antisocial, it’s too proud.

So if you spend your time in a garage,
Prepare yourself inside for a barrage.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else?
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