”why do you tell me

children’s stuff?”

his wife said

“rather tell me you’ve

sold a painting and invite

me for coffee.”

the artist/stunned at such


usually a hard worker/

would he deserve this kind

of attitude?

perhaps in too much history

of an unfortunate marriage’s

rubble he’s buried under –

maybe he just lives up to his

promise he’d given her mom’

to look after her –

whatever he’ll do in the near

future she’ll not appreciate

since the days he’d lost his


crawling up the

rubble-mountain of a human


just to tumble down from

the apex of his achievements

nobody longer appreciated.




One thought on “tumble

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