Living together in a flatlet
Between a poet and his spouse.
The state’ support for honouring
Their 50-year marriage anniversary
Was thwarted by the major’s office
Due to respective rules
Denying the small cash support
If one’s domicile is not in Vienna.
Pity. The poet lamented
We’re living only six miles outside
The city boundaries
In a small flatlet
Not worth the effort for the city’s
To honour half a century of marriage
To the same partner.
Not important nowadays to the trend
Of short stints of
Go to town and visit the Poet’s friend
Who had a bad attack of an epileptic
As he listens to Mr T’s story
‘It’ll be good. Just move about a bit
In the room. Move. Move.
I know all about it’. The poet said
Having been in hospital for a tricky
Knee joint operation.
While the poet leaves for an
Ice cream stick
He also searches for a swimming cap
To tuck his long hair in
But cannot find one.
Well most people sport crew-cut hair
Or shaven off completely.
The poet’s spouse sits at Chilai’s
Sipping lemon water.
What the poet calls Dog Days
She’ll thrive in the greatest heat.