two cultures meet

zg-heart 2

viv-elfin of the musical scene

special talent/ dedicated/ ethereal

conscious/ cultural blend/ critical

eyes that’ll look through you

quickly secure a place for you

if you carry yourself a cultural

breeding/ tells you who you are.

‘des gibt’s do ned’ the tipsy woman

from the adjoining table cackles

in basic Viennese dialect

then falls back into high german

coloured by some words tainted

with the local drawl.

the poet talks about his work

asking about her education –

she appears to be uneasy

irritated by the couple’s noisy

silly love-tease talk.

annoyed by fruit-flies chasing

for a sip of wine

the poet touches her arm –

“don’t touch me,” she said as if

stung by a bee

asking for a physical distance

the way of far eastern habits

which is unbearable to the poet

who is not used to behave in

ice-cold indifference

but southern joie du vivre.

could you love somebody and

never touch?

hah! how to dance then?

arms/ legs/ lips/ and penis

cut-off like a tree branch

one huge human sufferer

worthwhile living?

the heart only supported by

a glass of blaufränkischer?

“i hate idiots,” she said

“the world is full of them,”

a voice said.

the poet is silent

‘a tale of two cultures’

he writes.                      zoltanzelan   zjg-poetry’20

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