The Human Game

[DieterM]

We dwell in central-heated opulence,
behind red velvet curtains,
with smells of beeswax wood polish
and Jean-Paul Gaultier perfume
and roast pork à la Orloff,
leaving finger prints on the window pane,
our breath blooming and blurring the view,
but just so little

From across the street,
the pseudo-Greek white facades
of Riviera-style villas taunt us
between pine trees,
and the turquoise swimming pool,
exposed by autumn's undressing,
mocks our petty ease

We can see ourselves quite well,
sitting at that pool in August,
sipping chilled, pinkish daiquiris
and picking leisurely
a juicy, imported olive

We would do that, we would!
We wouldn't fly off to Cannes
or the Seychelles, or the Hamptons!
We would inaugurate the roof top terraces,
put them to proper use
after so long a wait

One day, we swear –
and swear we do, each day,
under our breath! –
one day, we'll live there

on the other side
of the road

[Jack of Hearts]

The message seems true enough. The human game is wanting to live on the other side of the road, where the grass is greener. But (having just had his fixed) this reader is more than happy to sit in the opulence of central heated air... for now.

Thanks for a good read, Dieter.






J

[cafolini]

This is very good. However, I would change the title to "One" Human Game. There are many many others in the museum.

[symphony]

A very good read indeed, Dieter. Flows well, says just what it wants to when it could easily lose itself in the floral description of the lifestyles, and the consistent absence of periods I find intriguing.

[free]

In its slow flow and locations names recalls a bohemian spirit known from works of art and personal experience. I like it.