Acquaintances

I have seen Adam and Eve in a book
depository—he was a keeper; she, a dust jacket
fitter, who once learnt
at a lovers’ lane that, whether it’s fellatio
or a blowjob, it is supposed to be time well spent,
until they give you the look and then you know—
after all those years you are merely acquainted—
you and that shadow of yours.


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com

No one is born

He who has neither the courage to die nor the heart to live, who will neither resist nor fly, what can we do with him?
Essays, Michel de Montaigne

No one is born because they want to, yet
the unlettered pen pals teach you to believe
that a second-hand appreciation leaves nothing
but a bad aftertaste—an old man’s grudge
like the scent of snow or the answer
to the question ‘What’s north
of the North Pole?’


More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com