1
new dead flowers in
living room. First
Wasp of Spring. Time
for writing. Sap and
dying. Ashes and seed
lie scattered etc.
In kitchen, Wife
cook sunday dinner
for herself. Upstairs
Husband push drawing
pins into scowling
mouth of penis.
2
Wife is out. Has taken
clichés to launderette.
Husband, withdrawn, stare
overlong at photographs
of himself, in hope
of being recognised.
In front of mirrors
he bob and weave,
turn suddenly to catch
reflection off guard.
Reflection always on time.
On occasions, lying in wait.
3
Wife, downstairs midnight
putting cholesterol in his
Flora, decide their life
together has become anathema.
Stuffed toad in birdcage.
Husband, upstairs writing
poems she will never
read, decide holiday
abroad would be best
thing for both of them.
Next day he leave for Anathema.
Wife give toad kiss of life.
4
Husband, penis loaded
with drawing pins, swagger
into kitchen. Unimpressed,
Wife snarl matteroffactly.
‘You rat a tat tat
rat a tat tat
Take that a tat tat.’
Wife is pinned against wall
like fading Wanted Poster.
Husband pack away
empty shotgun and return
upstairs to collect reward.
5
she hang on his every word.
Pull, pull and pull.
Hand to his mouth
he fight back. Wife
drag him to floor.
Words cry out in pain:
‘Words, we’re only words,
we don’t mean anything.’
Wife release grip
and return to kitchen.
‘That what you always
say.’ She say.
6
in Husband’s dreams, her
stockings burst at seams.
She is centre-fold
of all his magazines.
Pinned up each night,
she disport herself
as he befit. As he
thought she used to do
or might have done.
Prickteasing series of
saucy pix. His memory
playing safe, playing tricks.
7
except for sound of their breathing.
In bed Husband mustn’t touch.
Put arms around body he
helped shape. He fight impulse.
Do what is not natural.
Keep his self to himself.
Nerve ends tingle. He become
Electric Chair and move in.
She asleep on Death Row.
He wonder what would be
her last request. Chair
get erection. Chair know best.
8
Wife hoard hazelnuts
in cunt Husband
train squirrels to
fetch hazelnuts. Wife
keep fox in petticoats
to chase squirrels. At
break of day, Husband,
in coat so gay, unleash
hounds in bedroom to catch
fox. Wife join Anti-blood-
sports League. Husband join
Anti-nuts-in-cunts Brigade.
9
Wife want life of own.
Husband want life of Wife.
Husband hire hitman.
Hitman hit Wife.
Wife hit back.
Hit, hitman run.
Wife run harder.
Hurt hitman.
Hurt hitman hit Husband.
Tired Husband hire second
hitman to fire first hitman.
Fired hitman retire, hurt.
10
Husband keep live rat down
front of jeans for rainy day.
One rainy day, drunk on
cooking sherry, Wife slip
hand inside Husband’s jeans.
With brutal strokes she
skin it alive before
pulling off its head.
Wiping blood on pinny
she return to cakemix.
Husband bury dead rat
for another year.
11
upstairs, Husband wrestle
with major themes. Wife
in kitchen putting
two and two together.
Always Wife in kitchen.
Always Husband wrestling.
On kitchen table is
flour, water, drawing pins,
salt, blood, ashes etc.
On desk upstairs,
major themes (or parts
thereof) lie scattered etc.
12
photographs of hitmen.
Hazelnuts for rainy day.
Dead flowers in fading
penis. Clichéd toad
bursting at seams. Empty
shotgun in birdcage. Holiday
on Death Row. Words,
we’re only words.
Husband, upstairs, painting
out light in painting
of end of tunnel. Wife
in garden, digging up rat.