recluse

the saturday before the second

lockdown – people queue in shops

for gardening items/hobby builders/

gourmets have a last taste of their

favourite dish in their preferred

ambient setting.

a/ my neighbour walks with me

to the obi-supermarket

while i’ll better get my documents

to mrs c

obtain a red cross pass for low-income

groups/artists/the elderly/the jobless

crowds/the hungry/

while on the other hand

supermarkets throw away tons of food.

here/at the social-market

are only a few items of food displayed:

long lasting low fat milk/tin foods/

carnival-donuts filled with apricot

marmalade/ricotta/chocolate ginger

breads.

well/we’ll survive the second lockdown

for how long it’ll last nobody knows

but let’s focus on creative work

and forget the exit ban.

the poet and the artist don’t mind

the stricter general regulations

that much

don’t they work in a state of recluse

most of their times?

recluse.esulcer

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’20.

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