Love is not a reliable emotion-
It soars it falls out of the sky
it crashes and buries
first time lovers and
mature ones alike.
The morn greeted dull and grey
she opened the window wide
to let-in damp air
spreading all over my heated
chest.
My dreams: rivers of sweat and
tears.
She took off early
I had time for myself.
As I ate breaky she phoned:
don’t eat too much
meet me at ‘Stadtboden’
she’d chose as her haunt.
Dimmed dusky atmosphere
low level natural light
great views thru’ shop windows
palm trees growing in Vienna’s
Kruger street.
Behind them I imagine the sea
B says.
Our seat in the far left corner
we order coffee
Americano salad with prawns
then more coffee
as you’ll get a cold pint of water
with every coffee from our
Macedonian waitress.
Afternoon’s time vanishes
quickly with slavish duties.
Nica ’s tired out running errands
For Mr T whereby it’s an obligatory
walk for me
to fetch his usual ice cream.
The young Serbian lady smiles
about Mr T’s standing order.
She’s familiar with the
three-flavour-cup wrapped-up
without a flat edible top.
At Mrs IRA’s flat Mr T makes
a scene of paying me for the
day’s work plus expenses.
I’LL apply for it tomorrow
with Mrs IRA. A business woman
with a sensible soul.
On this note my poem
in this green journal ends.
I’ve learned from great men:
etaH get’s you nowhere
but evoL does!
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’17.
