Monday, January 4, 2021

Mongolia Can Help

 

We are very good at enjoying holidays,

A teatime trip to the British Council,

A walk to the light show over Love River,

But not a river of love on a New Year’s Eve, 

With the only entertainment on TV, 

In an aged hotel with paper-thin walls

to hear but not be heard at all,

And a forgotten mattress board,

removed for hard rioja asleep.

Twilight evening at home with Taiwan  news

Making herself something as I ponder rum,

And scroll down from Mongolia’s zero death toll, 

To the unveiled line that “Taiwan can help”

Chastised for quipping “Mongolia can help, too”,

As she turns off the set without asking,

Leaving me with silence and cats,

Should I have gone out alone to enjoy the evening?

As the missus misses bed with smartphone spats.

 

For the wine rack we had gleefully chosen,

She's still roiling after calling the police 

on a neighborhood witch she likes the least,

For insulting her mother’s private parts

Making it topical with my proposed position,

To get it off her chest and put it with derision,

For suggesting there were better things to talk of.

That I had only the responsibility to listen.

To take it without betraying a preference for happiness.

So we go through our evening singularly,

My dreamy Desdemona lifting her skirt to fly,

For a tryst in her car with windshield darkly,

My Roasting potatoes for a yearning love taster,

Encouraging her warmth hearing men bast her

Expats elitists not knowing loving Taiwan,

Is prerequisite to loving her long

So long from an intimate place to relax,

a place like Mongolia where there is no flack. 

January 5, 2021

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