when the eggnog runs out

as i stand outside
the house i used live in,
where others now reside,
shivering and cold
in my wet shoes, a pint
of southern comfort at
my blue lips, foreclosure
papers still in hand,
i can't help but wonder
at the turn of events
that have taken place.
the economy is the simple
answer, but it's not
enough for me to know
that so many others
are suffering the same
fate. bad planning, the
wrong job, not enough
education to keep the
money rolling in, divorce,
or children gone off the
deep end, sickness,
the swine flu perhaps.
it could happen to anyone,
but still. it was once
my house. it was the place
i put up the christmas tree
and gathered the children
around, some of them mine,
and the second wife, i think
her name was marsha, the dog,
the cat, my neighbor jimmy
and his boyfriend, bill.
it was where we would all
sing, and dance the night
away until the eggnog ran out.