At 7am Monday morn’

Even if my birdsong-alarm

pulls me gently from my sleep

I praise myself lucky

that signs of my body’s

disintegration have faded

over night.

I may sense again a workable

body pleasant enough

to face libido-charged Alma –

She entices my own libido

or whatever is left.

At 7 am Monday morn’

a short walk in fog and

darkness – it pays to be

early at Dr. W’s practice

never mind all moans from

an irritated spouse

and I wish to leave as fast as

I possibly can

longing for my personal

freedom

I’ve left behind on an island

in the Ionian Sea.

 

zoltanzelan

ZJG-Poetry’15.

 

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