it’s wonderful, frankly,
being comfortable.
and I spent so long
in search of suffering
to breed a poet’s
soul. I had – and we all have –
my romantic aspirations,
but there’s nothing else
like this, or shouldn’t be;
like falling over
off a bridge
and onto a raft
and eiderdowns. on the sofa,
the dog on my knee,
her moustache
dripping dogwater.
and you also, over there
reading a book about marketing,
drinking water
from your cleaner
glass. I love this now;
won’t let it end
in any way
except unhappily
because that’s
how good things
end – in betrayal, or
(if we’re very lucky)
death. then I’ll really
suffer, or you will
for all your glasses of water.
imagine, if you can – it’s terrible,
it’s worse than
only suffering – to suffer
without having this
thing first.
.
.
DS Maolalai (he/him) has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and five times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden (Encircle Press, 2016) and Sad Havoc Among the Birds (Turas Press, 2019)
Twitter: @diarmo1990