She liked what he called the high life,
Designer clothes, overpriced restaurants, gourmet food.
He liked what she called the low life,
Low-cost clothes, fast food abominations, lackluster food.
She said with all the money you make with your auto dealership
Why can’t we have a fuller, richer life enjoying the finer things?
He said it’s best to live beneath your means;
You never know when a financial tragedy could strike.
She said but we have plenty of money in the stock market
As a buffer in case you’re so called financial tragedy strikes.
But that was right before the Great Depression
When all their stocks and the dealership were obliterated.
And she left him for a higher life with finer things
With an obscenely rich, dotty old man close to the grave
And inherited all his wealth when he finally died.
She spent it on a lavish lifestyle and a gaggle of gigolos
Until she became a lonely old lady when the money
And the gaggle of gigolo leeches were gone.
She spent her final penniless years in tearful distress,
Alone, depressed, and trapped in a destitute low life till she died.
Bob Boyd
