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"D'habitude" poem by MOIRA EGAN, U.S.A. - Italy. "Cactus of the Heart", Fine Art Photo by ADEL GORGY, U.S.A.


Link: http://www.adelgorgy.com/



Link: http://moiraegan.com/




“God, humans are creatures of habit,”

I say to no one particular,

myself, the man who calls himself my

lover, behind me in the next room.


The way we laugh when we hit the switch

knowing there’s no electricity,

or turn the faucet to wash our hands

anyway, plumber downstairs, no flow.


Do what you’ve always done, and you’ll get

what you’ve always gotten. This is our

homily these days, and I believe

it. God, humans, creatures, here we


sit in the cosmic chain of being,

him in the next room, me at my work.

He is reading, quietly, poems

that make him moan. This is sweet because


they are my own. He, of course, is not.

There is a woman some miles away

who yet is here with us, a corner

of the room and our consciences just


for her. Seems I’ve always been the third

angle of the triangle, the heart-

shaped chaos created by a yes

born of a no. And what I now know


is I want him alone, the slow moan

mine, no more shadowed eyes peering

from corners, through blinds. Do what I’ve done

always? always, I’ll trace clandestine skin.


—Moira Egan

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