Our State Of Affairs... Poem by RIC BASTASA

we shall say, we are honest,
there is no cloning, nothing imitated, we are
trying to be original,
we do not listen much, we talk much,
we write much, in fact,
it is an everyday undertaking like defecating
and brushing of teeth
and looking at the mirror
and washing the face
shaving and combing the hair
and talking to oneself

nothing makes us that happy
not money, not honor, no laurel leaves on the head
not a number of unfaithful lovers
or plastic friends,

this makes us happy,
another one 'bites the dust' another lousy thinker
writes,
another mouth opens, another ear breaks,
another one comes to you and says

is my poem good enough?
to you, another one belongs, this non-exclusive club
of breathers, of
'lunatics' of persistent lovers
junked most of the times
and yet lovelier still
the second, the third time,
the nth time
around.