
he settles down to his
restaurant-styled desk
and he tries sorting his
staple of calling cards
thinking of visitors for his
exhibition
that lies in a static state
since april and frozen
since the start of corona.
but then he types some
intimate thoughts
as if he’d do a striptease
for his muse
just like anne did for him
virtually
and if eroticism and faked
climax mix
diluting borders of true
feelings
so it all happens in public
life and in politics.
he settles down to his
writing desk
editing poems he wrote
at a bus stop/ the subway/
waiting between fast food
kiosks
the waft of spices colours
his words
wynton marsalis with his
refined orchestral breeze
lets the words dance along
for a grand ballet/ colours
blotched upon a giant canvas
of imagination
for great happiness.
happiness.ssenippah
zoltanzelan
zjg-poetry’20.
happiness often derives from simple things: enjoy one’s active creative world with the background of great music.