Bench Mark

Is sixty the bench mark?  I ask Hemingway,
"I would croak", he said.  "Gone zonkins!"
"Speak not of suicide" said the earnest Mary,
Every Rising Sun turns old, go to the sea.
He finished "The Dangerous Summer", weary,
Unedited.  Nineteen sixty make him sickly.
Memoirs touched us,"A Movable Feast"
Of depression, derailment,  nothingness,
Mayo Clinic was the last resort,  mortis,
He was preppy.  Therapy for  memory loss
All dreams ghostly of fulfilment,
Life is a paranoia.  "A Death In
The Afternoon", "Winners Take Nothing"
He surveyed major wars, "Farewell to Arms"
Drew sketches to tell "For Whom The Bell Tolls?"
Tales of war. Enamoured.  Love of Nature endeared,
He would have fought but for vision problem,
And embraced martyrdom.  Life in the dome.
Dramatization, diction, all strange,
"The Old Man and the Sea" was a search vain,
Achieved nothing, but had everything!
Why should he live? Lustre, adventure
Everything over.  Premature obituries.  Great Hemingway,
Bull fights, real fights.  Audacity, eccentricity.
Adieu.  He shot himself.  The great head
Shattered.  That was the end.  Greatness
And Hemmingway coalesce.  Great!