Saturation Points... Poem by RIC BASTASA

buying furniture
is not an option, where
do you put them
in this crowded house?

clothes are a
no no,
he is fat and
clothes don't fit anymore

the spoons and forks
we have enough of them
left unattended
they rust in their secret
places

in the kitchen
the porcelain plates
are glossy
we become speechless
of such
beauty in fidelity
despite the fact
that we stop giving parties
and they have
become of no use

unlike before
we cook the traditional way
with firewood
and chimney and we
send the smoke to the
sky

our way of communicating
to God
daily.

now, we have become
too secretive with
technology
in our privacy
we do not keep any smoke
because we know
we cannot hold them
no matter how closed the
windows are
they always keep and
tell the story

guess what?
there is a need to buy
more blankets
we are feeling this
kind of indescribable cold
for the moment