THINGS THAT HAPPEN Poem by Mario Rivero

THINGS THAT HAPPEN



There were this man and this woman who met one day
No doubt the man smiled to the woman
no doubt he brought her flowers
no doubt he came to know her smell among thousands
and even went as far as sniffing her underwear
her bra and her panties
thrown on the bed

Years later she passes by with a fat gait
all covered in plumed furs
Her cheap and sweet perfume still the same
the same swaying of her charming leech's rump
only now her eyes are cloudy
as two faded porcelain beads

He looks like a serious and sober man
with his small amount in the bank and his curriculum vitae
he certainly has managed to climb to high places with time
he now examines her in an abstract way
as if he were examining
something old and rusty
in brilliant sunshine
Batting his eyes stupidly in a lapse of forgetfulness
and shadows and grease

Tiresias the blind soothsayer of shrunken breasts
All of us are him
- or at least somewhat like him

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