Day 9/30 - unfortunate coincidence

Last evening, a friend shared some relationship woes Not hers. But many have gone to her with such woes. Another friend had asked if it is indeed true that Covid would bring about more divorces and that question: “why must I tahan this person?!”

I was blessed with a loving marriage - my only complaint, why so short! Haha. So while I really enjoy being alone, I now also fully appreciate the struggles of being single - having been on both sides! You don’t have that one person to run to for all of life’s mundane or deep or pleasurable or silly moments - that two-man banter in your head must stop or else find its way to a wider network of friends. And there are things that friends, however dear, cannot satisfy.

So my response when I hear of Covid divorces are such - do you really want to get through this time alone? How much un-love must happen that a person’s presence would so repulsive? Where in the foundations of that relationship is the worm, the cancer? What is it that is lost you have both concluded cannot be found? But of course, I know there will be hurts and betrayals so deep, in our human-ness, we cannot find in ourselves the words to express or the power to overcome.

Today’s 2 poems are by the queen of wit and quite some promiscuity in the swinging 20s of America (post Spanish flu!): Dorothy Parker (1893-1967). These poems are for you ladies who are fed up with your partners! 

Unfortunate Coincidence
By the time you swear you’re his,
Shivering and sighing,
And he vows his passion is
Infinite, undying -
Lady, make note of this:
One of you is lying.

From a letter from Lesbia
...So, praise the gods, Catallus is away!
And let me tend you this advice, my dear:
Take any lover that you will, or may,
Except a poet. All of them are queer.

It’s just the same - a quarrel or a kiss
Is but a tune to play upon his pipe.
He’s always hymning and wailing this;
Myself, I much prefer the business type.

That thing he wrote, the time the sparrow died -
(O most unpleasant - gloomy, tedious words!)
I called it sweet and make believe I cried:
The stupid fool! I’ve always hated birds...


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