How We Almost Didn’t Survive Our 2 Month Anniversary! Poem by Dónall Dempsey

Nude(in Bude)
our bedroom

like a stage set
that we strut

our stuff
upon

imbued with super-
-human passion

desire setting fire
to our loins

our somewhat
energetic

lovemaking
sees us advance

inch by
sexy inch

down centre stage
each stroke

moving the bed
(unknown to us)

until we
collide

head on
with the wardrobe.


We have roamed
halfway across the room.

What(we thought)
would have happened
if

the wardrobe
hadn’t halted

our
passionate progress

or if we had
missed it

by an
inch

(we shuddered to think)

& just kept
going

lost in the throes of
advanced passion.

We would have
(eventually)

smashed through
the French windows

(not stopping
for nothing)

out unto
the veranda


before coming
to a startled halt

in the middle of
the garden

the guard dog
barking furiously

at our invasion
of his privacy.

We would have
(had to)

make love
(all over again)

to get the bed
back in

called a glazier
(Quick! Yellow Pages!)


be content
to just


cuddle


& hope our hosts
hadn’t noticed


anything
untoward.