When She's Away Poem by Robert Melliard

When She's away
I can smoke in any room
or leave washing-up
in the sink for days.

I feed forbidden titbits to our dog
and watch it come alive.

I fall asleep on the sofa late at night
with the T.V. turned up high,
listening to repetitive news
or the latest music videos,
or watching naked girls with phones.

I don't even go to bed.

When She's away I miss her
like half my life,
but I invite alcoholic friends to lunch,
challenging myself to have
just two or three drinks.

Our conversation's bawdy
and we emit guffaws
too vulgar for a lady's ears.

And later I try to write poems
in the cool wee hours till dawn
and wallow in self-centred-ness.