There is no impropriety

There is no impropriety

In acceptance of one's mortality

It is a natural evolution.

Perhaps I will feel better for it

Rather than harking back

To the past as if it was a real thing,

A living, breathing, brutish beast

Holding on for dear life

Claws well and truly dug in.

Perhaps if I embrace time’s passing,

Stop referring to events

With phrases like

“It was thirty or forty years ago”,

When did I start doing that?

History collected in decades

Dripping off the tongue

As glutinous anecdotes

Even without an invitation,

Please spare me the morose old Joe

In the corner

Nursing a pint of Guinness as if it was a lifeboat,

Perhaps he will have a different tale to tell

Come morning,

Then everybody will be happy.

Having said all of that

Contentment with one’s lot

Might have the desired effect

Of conferring an illusion of peaceful existence

But it can also disguise the reality

Of a general inequality

The tendency for the chattering classes

To believe all is well,

When it is,

For them.

What can we do for the brokenhearted?

Perhaps there is no impropriety

In the acceptance of one’s fate

When many standard measures

Might well conclude

That for good or ill

Upside and downside

Carefully considered,

You

Have never had it so good.