ALL GONE WRONG

A WOMAN AND HER THOUGHTS ON A RUINED MARRIAGE

Early dawn. Bird song
outside. You recline on
the armchair. He's upstairs

in bed engaged in sleep,
and dreaming of her no
doubt, not you. The bed

was too hot anyway, and
he murmurs in his sleep,
mentioning her name,

not yours. You recline in
the armchair, the burgundy
one you both had chosen,

dressed in just your white
silk slip. You wonder what
she's like in bed(you know

he has had her by the way
he acts), how she performs
in his sex circus, how she

looks undressed. His posh
mother did warn you he
was liable to wander off.

But you thought you knew
best, thought you had him
where you wanted him,

but you were wrong, he
goes where he pleases and
with whom he so pleases.

He sleeps upstairs, you
recline downstairs. You
picture her in your mind:

the slim figure, the blonde
hair, the thin lips, small
breasts(not quite his thing

you'd thought), and that
god awful cheap voice.
The armchair is firm, yet

so soft. He had you once
over the arm of this chair.
After the Harmsworth party,

both of you had had a bit
too much drink;it seemed
at good idea at the time.

Now you just recline,
listening to birdsong,
knowing it had been
spoilt, all gone wrong.