His Chapped Pride
He lingers in the hardware store
staring at forsaken screws,
picks some up
sets them back
rubs his stubble
attempts a philosophical stance
to show how fitting it is,
and asks himself what might plug the hole
in the leak of his days.
Retired sounded better when
there was too much work to do.
Searching for the minutes to fill
had a glamorous sheen
until the minutes turned on him,
ticking away at everything.
He licks the wound of his chapped pride,
buys ¾ inch wood and ½ inch drywall,
which won't work at all.