there are many beautiful women
in the world
with one or two or three children
and one wonders about their husbands
who aren't there.
when I visit their homes
I like opening cupboards and looking in
or under the sink
or in the wardrobe.
I expect to find the husband
and he'll say
"mate, did you notice her
she's a bit long in the tooth,
not the woman she used to be
her bums sagged...... and when
she eats onions she farts......"
and then he says
"but I'm very useful
I can fix things
I know how to weld and change
the oil in my car. I can play tennis, football,
and I can finish fifth or sixth in any
triathalon anywhere. I've got a set of
golf clubs and a handicap in the eighties. I
know how to excite a woman and what to do
about it. I've got an Akubra hat with the brim
turned down at the front and back,
I could fight if I have to, or make a
cocktail.
and I'll say, "look, I was just leaving"
and I will leave before he can challenge me
to arm-wrestling
or tell me a dirty joke
or show me his right bi-cep.
but really
all I find in the cupboards are
coffee cups and plates
and under the sink a stack of hardened
wettexes, and in the closet lots of clothes
and when you meet him he's friendly
and nice enough like a shoehorn, or a trolley
in the supermarket whose wheels run well
and you can't feel bitter
and the children are
playing happily
and life is sad and not dangerous
and therefore fair enough;
and the wife brings you a cup
of coffee in one of those
coffee cups and the husband
doesn't
jump out.
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