First a hug as he returns
From his shower –
Her finger runs along his
Spinal groove –
His senses suddenly wake.
The boiling pot of water
Interrupts her game –
Coffee…Illy coffee
She’ll stop anything for:
The tasty dark brown brew
Especially if brewed by the
Poet.
But then as he makes himself
Ready for taking off to A/F
She reprimands him not
Having made his bed.
It’s like a continuous play
Where an irate spouse
Pulls a poet down from
His own cloud of reflections.
She attempts not only to
Show her acidic side
But also to feel satisfied
With some revenge.
For her life has not
turned out the way she
had imagined it would
having acquired an
opposing position.
Tourists flock to buses
And trains
Trams and velotaxis.
The United Nations have
Arrived in popular Vienna
absorbing chocolates galore:
Portraits of Sisi and Mozart
Klimt and the Kaiser.
Perhaps next time also Freud
Zweig and Kraus
Schnitzler and Werfel.
To extend sweetened memories
And dance waltzes produced
In tarantula style?
It’s the least of real problems
If Klimt’s or Schiele’s
Mozart’s or Beethoven’s face
Decorate cakes or chocolates.
If we cannot build a nation
With selected foreigners
We ought to close and should
Not cry about our losses
Of moving freely about.
BUILD.DLIUB
zoltanzelan
©ZJG-POetry’17.
