Worst Case Scenario
The lawn is neat and tidy
the Mexican’s just been in
the maid has scrubbed the patio
and last night, where the hell’ve you been?
I stumble into the bedroom
and sit on our king-sized bed
shoulders hunched in solitude
throbbing heart and migraine head
I smooth the bed-spread with my ageing hand
stare at my bloody wedding band
a rash is spreading underneath
I’ve lost all hope and all belief
I gaze at that awfully tacky vase
we bought on our honeymoon
it’s already been knocked over twice
been patched up again and glued
I stare at all your sickly ties
neatly hanging in a row
I’d love to strangle you with the one
I gave you Christmasses ago
I’d love to set your suits on fire
burn all your shirts, your whole attire
we’re a worst case scenario –
I should have had that face lift years ago
Frances Livings © 2006
I really can’t decide if to laugh or feel uncomfortable with what the poem describes. Anyways, that is a hard thing to achieve. Congratulations.