the Cold War is far from dead
merely carried on across
countless telephone wires
camouflaged lies, open distrust
simmering between couples
who once shared pacts of steel

and now, tangled together
philosophies apart
we pluck at the frigid remains
of that metal
our broken instrument
playing a twisted song
its only sweet note
a child, begrudgingly shared

often, we fool ourselves
into believing
the anger has dissipated
with lilac words planted
awkward in the receiver
but mostly, we are like
Sumo wrestlers
circling inside the wires
of the telephone ring
respectful of the other's
strength and wisdom
yet ever alert for an easy kill


© 1993

890 hits as of December 2023

05/16/2017

Posted on 05/16/2017
Copyright © 2024 Chris Sorrenti