Upon Turning 50//Poem 1

When people ask about your dating life after 50

(as if it’s any of their fucking business)

And you say

You’ve sworn off apps (your hobbies do not include dating)

You’ve already raised and buried a husband (marriage is a man-made construct)

You love your life (Friday nights at home are your vibe)

You’re happily single (for real)

They label you as

weird

for not wanting a man

to raise

and cook for

and clean up after

and schedule around

and devote your time to understanding

at this late stage of life,

as if you need one more piece in an interlocked puzzle

because they think your life is not complete

the way they think your life should be complete.

But maybe you are weird

because having someone in your life

means

someone else could take out the trash.

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