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A lifespan introduced and epilogued

Impotence bothers more than just a few.
The path to it sets one to brood,
having seen others follow it
I was often amused.
To me it never rang true.
Oafs could succumb to it, I knew.
What if?! Intellect fared and feared the same avenue.
Biologically well into adulthood
I found friends bemused.
With their permission I dug for roots
and chronicle the venture of a couple
from youth to death laced heavy
with frigid rigidity,
impotence admitted true.


They had met as most do man and woman glued to
throes of passion on a Sunday afternoon.
The previous night friends
had promised revelry to the
stroke of midnight,
glorious were the lights
and sights the two had traversed
without being introduced.
Akimbo in the nude
the man declared
the night before had been some flight.
The woman shied, recalling
wide hips thrown wide with receptive candour.
Before silence could begin
or a blouse be buttoned,
the woman coyly murmured
Lucy was the bird you
screwed last night.
He smiled and admitted
Thor to be his name
'Never knew why they call me that. '
They joined plights
to be certified man and wife.
lives and limbs entwined,
hearth and fire combined,
log and brick angled
into squares and rectangles
with a roof on top
was their house construed.
With style and fashion
thrown in for others to view.

Life was fun, days meant work
the nights were flaunted with frills and thrills.
Then Lucy of the wide hips
ballooned in the tummy,
months later she was driven
to the theater awaiting maternity.
Thor held her hand
till the babies cooed
a daughter and a son,
twin dreams called
children had ensued.
Tiny limbs and pliant flesh
of color pink, black and brown
all are toys to mould and to groom.
Lucy and Thor busied their selves
with this fulfilling task
some endure but most enjoy.
Piggy back riding, baby talk,
little stubs called teeth,
fingers itching to tickle little belies,
soft hair easily blown and parted
with a whistle are
and many more
fringe benefits and pleasures
of having borne and reared children.
The twins were of course better,
stereophonic disjointed phonetics
clambering and clamoring.
They simply were a pride
fondled to heart's content,
they blossomed into brats
capable of din and clatter
audible to the neighbor
who equally bewitched
never complained.
Life was bliss.

A grand touring car
children aged fifteen in tow
radio blaring at noon.
This vacation Thor had decided
would be the turning point,
ahead they supposed
lay days of sang froid.
The brats were past puberty,
high school graduation
was just a year away.
Money by now was plentiful;
so were the paunches, Lucy and Thor,
fought hard not to display.
At night by each other's side
they would caress the paunch
as a reserve of lard
similar to the existence
of a good credit card.
Together they commented
'Middle age suits us best.'
The children at this would laugh
and ask for errands they could attempt,
'Run along to be home for lunch.'
Thor would cough and pat cheeks,
one had a stubble and the other
felt just like the mother.
In bed they were at peace,
passion had receded,
breasts had puckered, menses had ceased
and the mighty hammer was limp.
Indeed peace reigned.

Terrorized by Oedipus
He burst aside to steer by his might
so did she when
daddy had his morals to preach.
They in unison shouted from the rooftop
'Tell us if are wrong
why, how and what are we wrong about?.
You are the draconian ones
so move, so move----------'
They moved and let the twins loose
and attempted youth themselves
to fill the days they had got
used to viewing through the twins.
limpid flesh and sagging breasts
need an strong elixir
to come back to life.
So they sought wizards
whose cult has persisted
through modern times.
Window shopping with these
they saw fleshy highs,
drug induced dancing lights
and mind blowing talks
which witches testified
if comprehensible would deliver
the listener to a mental high.
Tired by noon, dragging their
limbs till sundown,
they slumped into unmade beds
dreaming of what they could
try next.
Lucy awoke one night and said
'It's no use, crow's feet
and wrinkles will follow suit
Let's relax and look up old friends,
meet your relatives and once in a while
try mine.'
Thus fidelity and fecundity became
mere words.
Gossip and an old slang became
the new order for the day.

An old couple given to each other
and none other
Huddled together in a flurry of abuse,
remembrances had become dear,
Old days were recalled
by the ancient fire, that once they had begun
the warmth still persisted, life still borrowed it
But the logs were a bother, one of the two had to
move to add another,
sigh and sink to a chair and say
'Your turn next bugger'
The attics were occasionally rummaged through.
Old newspapers and magazines dug up,
favorite events, people of old
remarked upon and their mettle attested.
Nowadays magazines and newspapers
Faces in them were unfamiliar
events lacked something or the other.
Doors and windows were clamed
the street outside was forayed
for edibles and for funerals.
No marriage, no baptism, no first borns
were on their meager programme.
Sometimes Lucy would view
the world through drawn curtains
and with a little courage thrown in
a clearer peek was ventured with
frail fingers brushing aside
the screen of cloth.
Sunbathes had shifted from beaches
and lake sides to the fenced back yard.
Deep down in recesses of their soul
was a shame and remorse
at the possession of old bodies,
envy embittered them more when
sometimes they saw an old couple
looking fresh.
The favorite chant was
'Kalyug kalyug-----

There were others, they had courage
they bred till they grandsons were elder
to their younger ones.
They bred till they had a womb
in which to conceive
Creation was their penchant and lucky charm
along with the knowledge that
all creations are independent
of the creator
and that there is no continuity, no sequence
to a dream,
and rarely a sequel.