Darling, we need to talk...
no not here and now; in private..
it's about synecdoche...
yes, I know you thought that it's just
one of those things that poets worry about...
but not any more...
it's like eating of the fruit of
the tree of knowledge - now we can't forget
that it's like it is, now, no longer like it was then..
synecdoche means, taking the part for the whole...
like in poetry, 'living by the sword'
when you mean, throwing a whole army into
removing one tyrant, when in the old days
you just sent in hired assassins, got on with life...
anyway the point is, I've been getting far too many e-mails
about.. well.. 'satisfying' you... implying that
if I don't keep up with Mr Jones down the road
(and yes, we're on the same rugger team,
I see him in the showers...)
that if I don't - well, you know -
Mr Jones may, er, extend his favours
in your dire erection, sorry, mistyped that one...
guess my Freudian slip is showing...
and now I see they've started e-mailing you
with much the same message - that
for Christmas prezzie, shared between us
(that's one crossed off the list...) -
well, should it be the vacuum pump (gift-wrapped
under discreet plain mailing cover) ,
or should I try the old-fashioned weights
('Sorry, he's not available right now,
he's weight-training behind closed doors...') ,
or should I go for patches?
Darling, you're so sensible about these things -
how do you feel about this, considering
our forty years of married life, and how you feel
about the Mr Jones's in your future plans?
yes, synecdoche - taking the, er, part, for the hole
(oops, another sp....guess it's getting to me...)
but let's remember, darling - synecdoche also says
that he (and she) who just live by the sword
then perish by the sword... should we consult
the GP, in view of my heart condition...?
darling, I leave it all to you -
yes, ask the other girls next time
you have a Summers party...
I'll check the new small print
they've added to the life insurance policy...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem