Zywa My sweet

I can see it
in the double-pane

people wear themselves
on their back

their shirts are tighter
than their skin

turkey guys raise their fan
more proudly than Mr. Peacock

     with bound hands
     they parade in the smell

     of their dry-windy gut bacteria
     and they let homeless people live

     on the wet coins
     from the old fountain of love

and I see myself
joining in to keep what I have

my dear self on my back
because I love my sweet

deceit

Poem 1979
Amsterdam, 2018-12-13

Collection: The drama 
Keyword: Love: for yourself 
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