MARRIAGE Poem by Kreek Daey Ouwens

Her head has become too small for her,
but she finds television fantastic!
The Pope is fantastic! He kisses the ground,
softly like a moth. Every week she sends him
a letter: ‘Pope, Rome'.

He has the old face of a small boy,
and he dreams about love. Every morning
he does the crossword in the newspaper
and then urges himself on to the order of
the day.

Together they have a little kitten which lost
an eye to a stone thrown from a
catapult.