After a brew-up when the sun's behind
the mountain ridge, my wife frets
about the double Dutch that I speak:
"This world no more bubbles up with miracles.
Oh, what the hell do you think of me, dear?
I ain't someone who freezes you out of passions.
"Stop all that nagging; we had better keep
our lust like a snake's coils at ease.
Why should you know of goddamn labour pains
"when you see this world's a place
for muggers blazing like politicians –
our raucous monsters under the tarpaulin?
"No, parents we won't be of devils and liars.
Honey, I'm no flaming idiot; and you know
Your sobs do tug at my heartstrings."
Poetry by Sofiul Azam
Read 880 times
Written on 2006-09-25 at 06:56
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