The two of you smile
at each other very politely.
Unobtrusive and cordial
with no true feelings exposed.
The air is bitter cold and knife like
between you
it amputates any positive contact
that remains.
She tells you of the distant
and exotic faraway places
where she'd like to travel
but.... you've been to all of them
so many times without her.
There are all of these things in life
that she wishes to experience
but there isn't much excitement
left in anything for you...
She looks at you and you are
'The man'.
You look at her.......
and she hardly matters....because
you are 'The Man'
who's seen and done it all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another great title backed up well with the goods. As a woman, I feel the word (pig) must be used with discretion... (In France, I had occasion to shout it once, in French - and dang if it didn't sound sexy, defeating the purpose entirely) ... The poem is an incisive write, uncomfortable for those oinks with a conscience; dismissed by those without.