I think I stopped going to parties
because I grew tired of hearing how
so many other’s lives had gone to hell,
how they hated their jobs, and a few
hated their significant others and hoped
to make them insignificant others
if they could ever get the courage
to leave or ship them out, but
maybe it was just because I
stopped getting invited to parties
where I would stand off in a corner
and attract the broken and needy,
hardly the life of any party.
I can’t say I miss those parties,
for I have my own complaints
about life, my poor vision, aching
back and knees, but mine is anything
but a hell, it is a joy mostly and
when I do get down I tell my woe
to the cat who tells me to shut up
and fetch her favorite brush and comb.