The fireworks and the flowers
Of their younger years together
Had waned and wilted
Through thousands of seamless hours of
Her with her constant harping,
Him with his ceaseless philandering
His roman candle libido coughed like a
Smokestack at her whenever she climbed
Into bed with him
Whilst the butterflies that had once fluttered within her
Bosom when he walked into the room
Had fallen frozen
In the winter of their marriage
Neighbours supposed the couple stayed together
Only to hold out for the meager life insurance
And maybe the infinitesimal hope of
A new romance before they themselves
Forgot their own grey names
Daily, the pair passed thru the silent house
With cold barrels bent
Their last private thoughts every night
Before they fell asleep
Were to dream up ingenious ways each
Could kill the other and make it
Look like an accident
The first three lines sum up the degeneration, the rest of this marvellously penned piece takes us insightfully and wittily through from external observations and hypotheses to the internal coldness and plotting of two people we probably all know... wonderful, detailed, rather eery, commentary on the transition. Scarily common, methinks, but rarely articulated so engagingly. Grand! t x
Wonderfully dark and aptly descriptive. Cannibalism is a great way to hide the body. You'll have to cook lots of chili, but it's nice when your partner can make you feel all warm and satisfied like that. -chuck
Their remaining together is it laziness or the fun of the battle... Excellent story telling... Alison
i second lea, roman candle libido is a phrase for the ages... along with frozen butterflies. Excellent as usual, depressing as always. Cheers, MS
You are an incredible storyteller. The roman candle libido is a fab turn of phrase. Bravo.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fishing wire accross the top of the stairs. Not that I'd ever consider such a thing. But it's nearly invisible... Hugs Anna xxx