You realize it
when the belt you’ve worn for a decade breaks —
the buckle torn through the thin, separated layers.
You sigh,
lament the trip to Target you’ll have to make to buy a new one
before asking yourself why you need one anyway.
Because men wear belts?
Because your eighth-grade history teacher humiliated one of your classmates who didn’t wear one?
Because you always have?
Have you just been stuck in a pattern— recessive, repetitive — this whole time?
Are you just a shipping container carried by someone else’s freight train?
He/they. I teach English at a junior high school in western Washington. Outside of work, I worry about a myriad of things and spend time outside.
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7 thoughts on “You’re Old Now”
I like the composition of your poem. Essential and reflective, yet down-to-earth, nothing extra. Something I aspire to myself in my own writing. Something I appreciate in others’. The rhythm, too, is easy, flowing… again, nothing extra, nothing showy, but as solid as a steady walk through a meadow. Funny: I just had this belt-failure experience myself. The buckle loops of a belt I’ve worn faithfully for 15 or 20 years just parted company with their silvery charge only a couple weeks ago. I was heartbroken! I’ve never been able to find a belt like it, one that just fit me, my needs, my taste, my daily routines. I’ve kept it and I think I’m going to take it to a cobbler that’s near here in Placerville (California) and see if he can make my treasure whole again! Thanks for the pleasure of your poem. And thanks for the like you gave one of mine, which brought me here.
Thank you so much! That was exactly what I was going for! My belt was completely ripped through, no salvaging it, so I had to trash it. I hope you have better luck with yours!
This popped into my head when reading your reflections:
It holds up me up
Stops me from falling on my face
It tightens around my fears
Brings in comfort that never goes to waste
It steadies my trembling pants
Loops the gaping nightmares in their place
It squeezes around the darkness
That if were loose would make me buckle
So no matter what they may say
I’ll belt it out any day
That I take solace in the routine
Which keeps my insanity at bay
I like the composition of your poem. Essential and reflective, yet down-to-earth, nothing extra. Something I aspire to myself in my own writing. Something I appreciate in others’. The rhythm, too, is easy, flowing… again, nothing extra, nothing showy, but as solid as a steady walk through a meadow. Funny: I just had this belt-failure experience myself. The buckle loops of a belt I’ve worn faithfully for 15 or 20 years just parted company with their silvery charge only a couple weeks ago. I was heartbroken! I’ve never been able to find a belt like it, one that just fit me, my needs, my taste, my daily routines. I’ve kept it and I think I’m going to take it to a cobbler that’s near here in Placerville (California) and see if he can make my treasure whole again! Thanks for the pleasure of your poem. And thanks for the like you gave one of mine, which brought me here.
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Thank you so much! That was exactly what I was going for! My belt was completely ripped through, no salvaging it, so I had to trash it. I hope you have better luck with yours!
LikeLike
This popped into my head when reading your reflections:
It holds up me up
Stops me from falling on my face
It tightens around my fears
Brings in comfort that never goes to waste
It steadies my trembling pants
Loops the gaping nightmares in their place
It squeezes around the darkness
That if were loose would make me buckle
So no matter what they may say
I’ll belt it out any day
That I take solace in the routine
Which keeps my insanity at bay
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That’s so good! I really like your wordplay!
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Don’t buy one on Amazon….the one I got was way huge😉 Take care, stay safe. I really enjoyed my visit here today–fabulous, phenomenal writing.
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I’m glad you enjoyed my writing! I greatly appreciate your kindness. Take care!
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Thank you.
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