What is it with these husbands and wives
who after so long stop sleeping side-by-side
and trade their marriage vows for their cyanide,
a head-in-an-oven, a pocket full of stones
and their husbands weep for a week and call it pride
and say how She warded off the world
or its poisonous arrows, at least; I longed
to get away, but was content in her shade
– and then he takes an axe to her roots
and sells the rest for half-price plane tickets,
a week in Geneva or somewhere else,
because still I loved no-one more fondly than
her (though I sleep every night in the arms of
another – but it is alright because) thou wert my 
purer mind; you were my first garland, now
here is my last:
        An obituary to
My Dead Wife; Or, Our Dead Love,
And Birthday Letters I Waited too long
to write, or Put it Right

when the truth is I no longer dream of you.

Teo Eve

Image credit: Jeffrey Beall via Flickr (CC) 

If you would like to have your poetry published in Poet’s Corner, please send all submissions to [email protected]

For more of Creative Corner,  follow Impact Arts on Facebook and Twitter 
Previous post

Interview: Solids

Next post

Thank Goodness for Team GB

No Comment

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published.