The Real People Outside [rev.] Poem by Margaret Alice Second

Vindicated after my beloved explained his attempt
to improve our standard of living failed to bring it
on par with those of his colleagues - beautiful people
who never go to Pretoria Station as it is below their
status, never make bus trips to the Cape - they fly,
never waste time reading but gym every day

Exquisite, long-finger-nailed women, well-cared
for houses with expensive possessions, good-taste
clothes resembling the Queen of England's yellow
hat and crimplene look-alike coat - while I, he was
sorry to say, went to work like a tramp carrying a
big, unwieldy bag, wearing an unflattering, bright

Floral sack - the house a mess, study a den of iniquity,
kids' rooms sources of evil; sulphur and brimstone are
too good for us - we drag him down to the level of a
hobo in sackcloth and ashes and IT IS ALL MY fault,
a low crocodile failing to instil discipline because
I live in eternal chaos and confusion

I change his life into a low-key living hell; I read
books and have theories but can't atone for being
BAD housekeeper, terrible cook with bad taste in
clothes, wearing no make-up, lacking finesse, style
and sophistication - oh, did he forget to mention
his lovely colleague's glamorous daughter who

Won several beauty contests, and another colleague's
son - Victor Ludorum for academic & sport prowess
while our kids live in squalor; and June, back from
visiting friends, recounts the same experience as
yours truly, the Ice Princess, living the same kind
of non-life, reading books - taken to task for

Her dishevelled hair, boring earrings and daft dress,
listens to my experience, and with a mischievous
smile, agrees we live in a different world from the
REAL people outside…

[8 July 2014]