Marital Bliss

“You stupid old bastard!”

“You mean bitch!”

With such begins another day.

Too poor to live apart,
Too hostile to stay,
Retirement brings too much time,
Too much time together.

His snoring is unbearable,
Her constant sniffling has him wishing her dead.

Hard for either to imagine,
that there was ever a reason to be together.
Photos on the wall of holidays – who are those people?

He works in his shop down by the barn,
She keeps herself busy in the kitchen.
Him making objects for the weekend markets,
An excuse to stay out of the house and away from her.
Her waiting for him to come inside,
So she can bitch about his shoes,
Where he leaves his walking stick,
Where he has moved something in the cupboard.

Ah, marital bliss!

She is diagnosed with cancer,
He cares for her like a child.
Putting aside former hostilities,
He is afraid she will die –
He will be all alone.

For months they get along so well,
Visitors keep checking that they are in the right house.

After painful treatments and the support of her soulmate,
She is given a new lease on life.
They are grateful for the news.
They go home.

Weeks go by –
Him in the workshop,
Her in the kitchen.
Him wishing her dead,
Her wishing him to be another.

Marital bliss.

Gerald Lee Jordan
Diamond Harbour NZ
09 February 2013