Stubborn-faced girls listening,
Her super-ego keeping down the heave.
Passing hypocrites turning back to mark,
To look twice, to make their stare obvious.
I watch through the shutter of the passing bus.
All along the road, at its ends
The number of couples fighting:
Guys trying to make stern points
To girls with all-pissed faces,
All private emotions out in common places.
So, romance doesn’t work, then:
That is the substantiated fact. So,
Our desire to possess and, when possessed, to hold
Cuts through the necessity:
Like birth control.
Knowing these scenes are to come,
Knowing all too well that desire will clash
With the unknown heart-rub of that
Woman unknown, we watch these encounters,
But walk into the zone.
I try to win, keep her on my side,
Cos on my side she will be free. That
Justification or lie, however, is not copyrighted to me:
The street fight, to the learned lover, is a sigh. And a smile.
Like, where on god’s earth were we all the while?