The Wife

THE WIFE The fog smoking to the skies Architecting more grey clouds The ticking hands of the clock Day getting old for more sunrays With the luggage, I slam the door behind Praying for traffic to fold up Ugly devils working round my brains The brakes should strike, screech with anger Where exactly will my head lay tonight If the mouth at home still not glued up Chatterbox for a wife, willing agent of evil A blessing confused for less in the brains The litter flows out in the upper outlet Words enough to fill a river down the ocean A recorder would be witness at the jury Noble men climb mountains for their queens Go miles to fetch water not sleepy lazybone They dance and kiss at the cocktails The tape rewinds on my idle brain Skies dark, at last pillow comfort my head Tomorrow I fill my boot before the birds awake Before the cockerel switches her day on I’ll run Long trip to endless world with no soon return Lovely note scribbled to my mother, my dear joy The single woman my heart forever adores But down on knees, heart to the High King Miracles of ancient, heard still exist Angels descend, its urgent or a soul falls All gadgets at hand, replenish her every part Or by the walkside, send me the perfect rib