These days
I worry about bulls and bears.
Not the kind
that I used to brawl
with on the streets.
The kind on Wall Street.
I read about companies
I never heard of
twenty years ago.
Study charts.
Watch prices move.
Wonder why anybody
would willingly spend
this much time
staring at numbers.
I put five dollars here.
Two dollars there.
Become emotionally attached
to a stock
I barely understand.
Created my own fun
portfolio with rules and
punishments for naughty stocks.
Apparently
I'm an investor now.
Then there's golf.
Standing over a little white ball
trying to convince myself
I know what I'm doing.
Watching instructional videos,
taking lessons and notes.
One good shot
can keep me coming back
for another hundred bad ones.
I want to improve.
I want to hit it farther.
Straighter.
Maybe someday
I want to stop losing balls
in water hazards
and the woods.
Then the doctor visits.
Weight.
Cholesterol.
Blood pressure.
Words I never thought
would become part
of my vocabulary.
Now I pay attention.
I look at what I eat.
I think about what I put
into this body
that somehow
has carried me out of the slime.
And then there are the cats.
Three of them.
Three personalities.
Three tiny dictators
who have somehow convinced me
their breakfast
is the most important event
in the history of civilization.
I feed them.
Clean up after them.
Talk to them
like they understand me.
Maybe they do.
And somewhere in all this
is the strangest thing.
I used to live
to drink.
That was about it.
Find the bottle.
Find the night.
Disappear inside it.
Wrap up in it, like a
dark blanket.
I was a shallow shell
of a human being
walking around
looking for the next way
not to be myself.
Now I'm worried
about cholesterol.
I'm watching
the stock market.
I'm trying to fix
my golf swing.
I'm feeding three cats
who don't give a damn
about my golf swing
or the stock market.
And I'm writing.
Still writing.
Still observing.
Still learning.
Still screwing things up.
Maybe getting older
isn't just watching
things disappear.
Maybe it's discovering
how much there is
to pay attention to.
Bulls and bears.
Golf balls.
Doctors.
Cats.
Books.
Poems.
The ridiculous mechanics
of an ordinary life.
And somehow
I want to see
what happens next.
-
Author:
Thomas W Case (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 23rd, 2026 07:31
- Comment from author about the poem: All of my books are available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Thomas-W.-Case/author/B0CL2RKDGX?ref=sr_ Here's a link to my YouTube channel, where I read my poetry and post videos of my attempts at golf: https://www.youtube.com/@ThomasWCase
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS, Tristan Robert Lange, Paul Bell, Kevin Hulme
Offline)
Comments5
There is an odyssey in this poem from down and out with one only thinking of the next drink and bit of food to the stock market, golf both a wealthy past time. Progress that has come with age and living. Well done my friend.
Thank you, my friend.
Always welcome my friend
What a moving piece, Thomas. The humor keeps it wonderfully grounded, but beneath it is the hard-earned wonder of being alive and caring about life again. As someone who also found sobriety, that transformation landed deeply with me. Outstanding work, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
Thank you, much appreciated.
Once upon a time, time dragged on, and the world needed conquering.
Now you watch youtube on how easy golf is, and it is easy on youtube.
I blame my left handed clubs for being rubbish, blame Trump for my shares slumping, and god knows what happened to the cat.
Lol. Thanks, Paul.
Another fine Poem Thomas. If someone told me when younger that I'd be writing Poetry: I'd have laughed. We are constantly changing. And as for the Stock Exchange. The only figures I was only interested were 37 22 and 36
lol. So true. Thanks, Kevin.
There’s something quietly powerful in this, Thomas. The contrast between once living to disappear inside the bottle and now finding meaning in stocks, golf, cats, writing and all the ridiculous details of ordinary life really works. Perhaps getting older isn't only about what we lose, but what we finally learn to notice. Great write, my friend.
Thank you, my friend. I appreciate it.
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