The Big Problem.... - Poem by RIC S. BASTASA

There is this BIG PROBLEM
WE decided not to talk about it
We think that that problem must solve itself

So day and night the problem stays there
Like a drunkard in the room
To every nook of the house
The house
That smells like fucking

But that problem is never considered a problem
There is a room for it to stay
And it can stay
It cannot consume us
It has no mouth and so it has no teeth
It has no tongue it cannot say a word
It stays there like a piece of art
And we begin to appreciate it
Like a piece of rock
Unchanged in the middle of the living room
We eat lunch there
They prepare nice dinners
We drink red wine
We munch chocolates
And sweet berries
The problem stays but it cannot nag us
Because we can pretend
That it is a brother
That we cannot junk but only love
And keep as part of the

There is still this problem
And it did not solve itself
We live by this problem and this problem lives with us

And so now
What is the problem? Is this a problem after all these years?
It is not anymore
We have learned that it is not a problem anymore
We die soon
And it shall perhaps disappear
Shall it weep over our departure?
That is its problem.

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Poem Edited: Wednesday, May 25, 2011

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