Relationships, Your Argument
You told me to watch out
because there were times
when you were out and out poisonous.
But I nibbled. I even ate.
And the longer we were together,
the more you declared that we were on
the point of collapsing.
I was happy enough to patch the walls, apply duct tape.
You were no great advocate of the future,
scoffed at marriage, often said that
no children in their right mind would want you as a mother.
To you, people were like a swarm of ants
attacking the one dead grasshopper.
When did two ants have the time to do otherwise?
About the Author: John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident, recently published in Shift, River And South and Flights. Latest books, “Bittersweet”, “Subject Matters” and “Between Two Fires” are available through Amazon. Work upcoming in Levitate, Writer’s Block and Trampoline.
Image Credit: Charles Henry Bennett “The Ant And The Grasshopper” (1857) Public domain image courtesy of Artvee
As It Ought To Be 