The Smooth Life Of G.E. Poem by RIC BASTASA

Every picture is see is what you describe
as perfect. A new baby for the family. The mother
looks and smiles. The proud father begs to
carry the baby even for a few minutes.

There were pictures of the marriage.
Black and white, old as the ancestral house
where the big family once lived.

There is this garden full of perennial flowers
It is as though your life is nothing but Spring.
Nothing of the winter
Neither the autumn.

Summer is well spent. The grandchildren
are not sickly and grandpa is not drinking any liquor.
The house is well kept. Every object is in order.

The chickens have always the correct feeds.
The cow is fat and the turkeys are ready for Christmas.

Sometimes i think
I must be envious.This is not my family.
What i had was messy.
I need not tell anybody.

But on the other hand,
I think that something so ideal cannot be true.
Like a fairytale.
Like a story fit for kids...ending
with And they all live happily ever after.

That is not really true.
That is just an illusion.
I go for something that i have.

The tears wet my pockets.
The novel is too interesting.
The hero falls and dies.

The tragedy like the one written
By Sophocles
always give me that
catharsis.

Not yours. Not your family.
Not your success.