Your Woman. My Woman! Your Wife - Again? Poem by Hubert Wilson

Waking still again in that battered same musty room!
Surely even the cheap Montgomery Motel had others less foul?
Just what was that smell?
How did he get there - and with whom?
Turning over to see that familiar tired, prematurely wrinkled face!
That reminiscent single crinkly coarse black hair!
Still growing out of the mole near her mouth -
Or was it?
Your woman. My woman! Your wife?

Then, came that sharp intimate pain below the waist!
Did he have ANOTHER dose?
Why did he feel some odd pelvic restraint?
Daring to look below the threadbare dirty sheets!
Horrified to see 'macho man' he was wearing hot pink bikini panties!
Across the tattered front was a stained smiley face
With only two less than subtle words stitched -
'LAST MONTH'?
Your woman. My woman! Your wife - AGAIN?