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Looking at things

Walking on cobblestones is an ordeal
and more is the traffic, I look out of the window
when I walk on my treadmill count how many
cars going around the roundabout.
When I have counted 500, I stop this treadmill
15 minutes have gone by.
When I lived at the border of Alentejo I walked
on the soft grass and counted flowers
saw grass grow into fodder for sheep.
A Moldavian family bought my house, people
tell me how lucky I was selling the house
I had many offers but told no one, hence “lucky.”
My lyrical mine is all but dried up, now reduced
to write about furniture, a sad fall from grace.
The war games
  
Yesterday afternoon in Finland, as happy people walked about
content in their world of social welfare and full employment
a train loaded with armoured tanks was seen heading for
the Russian border as spring light danced on the lakes.
What do I know, that might be the military's yearly outing?
As the wolves howl lustily to the stars and the trout wakes
in the streams of spring.
Is it, God forbid, a strategic baiting to divert the Russian army?
From Ukraine. If so, this is a dangerous war game.
Finland has a long border with Russia, 1400 kilometres, therefore
2-to 300 tanks a drop in the forest, but enough to make a point.
I prefer to think it is a manoeuvre performed in days of light.
Of men and plants


The endless growing of new leaves
of my indoor plants, shedding the excess
all over the floor, as disregarded dreams
getting in the way of the day.

Female hyenas are good mothers teaching
their litter is how to scare off lions.


Restless minds are not sound as leaders
who overthink everything and have nervous breakdowns?
Sit shaking in the corner on the bridge of warships
excellent, dancers in the ballroom of peace.
The song contest.
There has been a song contest in Europe
Russian singers and musicians were banned
Which makes the contesting political?
Needless to say, Ukraine won.
One notice Israel appeared but not
Palestine, who was mourning a dead reporter
Killed by an Israeli ******, but we will not hold
this against he musicians and singers
Abortion, an opinion.

  I sat on the terrace sun was flooding obliterating whiteness
 escaped into the living room, observing four ships anchored in the bay.
Through the binoculars, vessels with long lines made to carry bulk loads  
like grain, rice or coal; I spent many years on crafts like these.
This reminded me if abortion had been informal, I might not be born
in the time before World War 2 when abortion was hard to obtain  
not, relaxed, with a quick visit to the hospital and a cup of coffee.
My mother (before women’s rights, was all for women’s rights) such as
equal pay and respect, but she thought abortion was morally wrong.
Since we lived in poverty, her sister showed up with a skipping rope
that might help induce a spontaneous abortion mother was not
into sport and preferred to read lengthy novels.
I cannot condone abortion on demand; I know the arguments
about a woman’s body is her own can do as she pleases.
A better reason must be given before the purge of the unborn.
At the hospital (nurses and doctors)

Been to see the diabetes doctor
first, we had to see the nurse who did the physical aspect.
The nurse said I had lost 2 kilos
which was pleasing to hear; the last time I met her, she looked
worse for wear coming up to the surface of a night depravity
and her uniform looked crumbled.
Doctors, nowadays, consult their computers to see
how you feel tapping away, like a secretary.
My doctor, a small, slim woman, had been to the beach
she had lovely fingers; she wore pumps I didn’t think much of
but her ankles were elegant as her fingers.
Finally, she gave me some new tablets I will probably not use
I noticed she had a copy pen on the desk, given to her
by a medical supplier, not that I mind… My God, those pumps!
The racial question

There is a black female politician
says Portugal is not black enough her liking
I find this preposterous.
The Portuguese who settled in Africa to make
their wealth mixed freely with the local black
population, as a result, blackness seeped in
and blended with Muslim blood.
Algarve was once a Muslim province
to the extent, the Iberians have a laid back
attitude to time.
The female politician may get her to wish fulfilled
with a shrinking white population
and black people from former colonies arriving
I think the day will come in the near future
the Africanization of Portugal.
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