Allegorical

Allegorical


They were there, in the street, my wife and her best
friend, an ugly woman of thirty five, she had one
big, red eye and one eye, small and dull, the red
one was lit up as a lantern that absorbed all sifting
and cataloguing the seen for further use.

She wore shorts her body was dough like and she
had no breasts, I didn’t want to kiss her, but since
she was my wife’s best friend and I live in a country
where people kiss a lot, I had to; but her eye had
seen my reluctance and it glowed malevolently

Lunch, I suggested her friend ought to wear a blouse,
but no, her friend had spent twenty years in a damp
dungeon and needed sun. Phone rang I had to leave,
as the red eye drilled holes of dishonour in my mind
I fell down a manhole I was unable to crawl out of.