Since my beloved believes my twin’s teaching me
independence (which he deems inappropriate) we
have clandestine meetings - then power failure at
work with exciting possibilities of explosions if too
suddenly reconnected - and we are sent home;
my son loves poetry classes, maybe he’ll become
an undercover poet also; my daughter has a job at
a studio though she hates commuting to and fro,
mother has a new purple carpet - I inflict my love
for purple & all its hues on everyone except my
beloved. I camouflage my new bohemian blouses
under black boleros; mother has a flat screen TV
in her room at the old-age home - with the fridge,
table for writing & sewing and great piano to play
in the chapel, she’s enjoying a marvellous life
Our roof has been fixed but my cell-phone died -
forced to use a touch-screen, attempt ended
in headache, it refused to reveal its secrets - with
these kinds of nonsensical problems I realise how
lucky we are as a cold wind reminds everyone
Autumn is coming, so I dig out my new silver and
white Ice Queen throw and dream of finding more
adventure tomorrow…
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
“This boy’s gonna make it” – ‘n heildronk op my ma, Annemarie: Dit gaan soms broekskeur om met familie klaar te kom want "Famil...
-
Found a perfect rendition of the Arabic alphabet on the Internet, trying to remember the letter KHa is pronounced with a guttural G... -
Looking for the good, ignoring the sad (anything we dislike), according to Abraham’s (Esther Hick’s) website: “You cannot look at what you ...
No comments:
Post a Comment