(Poem) 1 They say you cannot call a hole a hole. But unfortunately, I said it. And they stared at me with all disgust. They cuddled on the shoulders, squeezed a little, Turned to each other, grinned a little (sorry, ‘smiled’ would be more appropriate a word!), blinked and muttered… Haven’t you read Freud? No sir…Yes sir... I didn't know what to answer. But they were kind to me. They took pain to explain everything: Hole, you know, is politically incorrect. That’s sexist, you know! It’s simply ‘an unoccupied space.’ ‘Oh, thank you sirs,’ I expressed my gratitude, But never dared to ask what they do with that ‘space’. 2 The restaurant tables were empty Except the sugar-pots and thin layers of dust on them. Few house-flies used liberty to swirl around And occasionally landed on the table to toss their ‘mouths.’ For me, it was enough to smile all alone! Oh, sorry… I didn't notice them, They’re already seated on the chairs. So
The Way I See the World