There was a street cafe
Of love,
Where once a virgin met
Experienced lover.
Where a husband yearned
For yet another,
Where a fiancé second guessed a marriage.
Where an older man
Ached for a younger lover,
And played juke boxes
Of different songs,
Many times
With coffee cups of different sighs,
And glistening eyes.
All three hearts and minds
mourned in different ways ,
at different times,
the fact that their love
Had died
In that street cafe of love called Ted’s.
We all have tasted painful relationships like this one at one time or another in our lives
That’s not to say we should dwell on them :
Goodbye Tasting
You said :
You’ve got to go,
goodbye.
I said I’d rather stay,
so you led me
to your bed.
I said :
I’d rather not
this way.
You took
my love
My dear and simply made it
A heart
hors d’oeuvre,
so
Nice and tasty .
Union Station
Take me
to Union Station
It’s there we can be
joined
among the tunnels
trains and crowds
sequestered ,
connected and
conjoined ,
There we can travel
on line
together united.
Pavlov and His Dog are Waiting
Pavlov and his
dog are waiting
In the car
side by side,
waiting for Pavlov’s wife.
The dog isn’t salivating
and neither is Pavlov .
They are waiting
patiently
without anticipation,
starring both in exactly
the same way
straight ahead.
It’s a direct order
from fate,
and the bells of desire
have stopped
ringing .
They’ve been
replaced
by patience
in tandem ,
as Pavlov
and his dog
wait patiently
In the car.
From “Ruminations of the Dead” by PWChaltas
PWChaltas 