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Retirement


I was an expert until a week ago,
a yogi of technical knowledge.

Now my in-box has been cleaned out.
My photos removed from the walls.

What's my new role at home?
How can I help?
I'm no handy man.
The new wallpaper that I hung
looks like piled laundry on the floor

and car mechanics
are as baffling as plumbing.
My car splutters as if trying
to hold back its raucous laughter
when I lift the hood.

I admit it; I'm as helpless at home
as one of a hive's drones,
all saunter and swagger
but no contributions.

Retirement's "job requirements"
are impossible to meet,

criticism sure to sting me
the rest of my days.

Tweaked

Just saw this after testing your other fine poem about retirement. Seems it hits men harder than women.

I think you're right; in general it hits men harder.