the seven year itch

my friend of forty

years, Joe,

calls me and wants to know 

if i still have

a guest room

with an empty bed.

my wife

wants me out,

he tells me.

she says, it's over. we're done.

all we do is fight

and argue

over the smallest things.

i think she has 

what they call the seven

year itch.

i've been sleeping

on the couch

for i don't know how long.

i just need a month

to get my act

together,

stop drinking and smoking,

stop doing so many drugs,

get a job, save some money,

buy a car,

and get back out

on my own.

maybe a few months,

six at the most, a year, tops.

do you mind

if i stay

at your house?