there are shouting matches

in relationships

glued together thru’ the

razor-cut of economics

sharing keys to one main room

and tread lightly

avoiding to step on toes

and entangle one’s relative freedom

from refreshing outside walks

in each other’s long hair.

there/at one’s mature age

when the poet found his groove

for inspired writing

his spouse excels living on fresh

fruit/sesame concoctions/and

grooming her waist long hair

love/the most important ingredient

for two human beings staying

together

has left life’s once great thrashing

floor –

there’s no use for demanding love

forcefully/kicking out at a spouse

it’s like flogging a horse

already dead.

the forces of love have altercated

and their flow has been absorbed

by the great thirst

of a new creative being.

thirst.

zoltanzelan

zjg-poetry’20.