You stir it one way, and they the other,
but the pot stays just as hot
You attack their motives, and they attack yours,
while the mixture boils and rots
'It needs to be this way'… the other side revolts,
your mind ‘faulty' with avarice and greed
The pot has simmered, the broth is thick,
and its bottom not easy to see
With spoon or fork, its offering slick,
when the bowls come out at noon
A mutual exclusion, first left then right,
neither motive heaven known
In single file, day turns to night,
talking points with nothing said
Both cupboards bare, a rat within,
guarding a piece of old stale bread
When the final story is written and told,
of what in concert you destroyed
A drum will beat, zero-sum complete,
leaving you soulless, but conjoined
(Villanova Pennsylvania: June,2016)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem