Clingfilm Poem by Grace Blue

You like to work far away from your hellhole home,

Where she sits and simpers and sleeps,

And bakes cakes and biscuits which she flogs too cheaply online.

You've got matching gold strips around your fingers and

Once you had Mr and Mrs socks until yours went into a hole.

Scorn upon scorn she spewed, make do and mend, but

She was no good at darning.

She likes to put shopping bills and receipts in your head,

She'll make a DIYer out of you yet.

The cliché rings; you go out to work, and I'll look after the children

And she does, with new toys and Sky.

I'll clean the house, you earn the money

And every day, there's a retched smell of baking, flour dust

And the reed diffuser pumps uselessly in the corner,

The scent tipped into a flowerpot by your three your old last week.

Honey, honey, whinge, whinge, call in a plumber, would you?

Got to dash, going to a candle party.

She shows off her diamond ring, a last minute birthday present.

Isn't it lovely? Beams all round,

Whilst you chuck the wilted plant into the compost bin.

Diamonds are forever,

Until they chip and you realise it was only glass.

She screams murder in all shades of the rainbow

And those speakers you'd wanted fall silent and

Their melody is replaced by the wolfy wail of

Dissatisfied children on their birthday.

Do my dress up, would you love?

I'll need a new one next week for so and so's wedding.

You have booked a day off work, haven't you?

Lists pinned onto the fridge, tenners lifted from your wallet,

She'll pay you back, but never does.

She bought a puppy last year for the children, oh how very darling

Until it grew and nibbled at the rug.

Now you're far away from your hellhole home,

Walking the dog and she's given you a cookie for later.

You stop and sit on a park bench, and peel back the clingfilm from the morsel

Revelling in the task. She's woven it well, but you rip it free,

And stare at the organic, free ranged lump of hard work.

The children tumble down the hill and feed their sandwiches to the ducks

And you chuck your cookie on the floor and watch

As the dog gobbles it in wobbly jaws and swallows. All gone.

You smile and fling the clingfilm in the bin.