The Battered Wife

The first time
you crushed my skull
I was happy,
but that was a thousand years ago.

I have been tossed from windows
and set aflame as I slept in bed;
I have been shot in the head,
gagged and dropped from a train.
I have been poisoned
and left in the dark beside a road.

I have given birth to a thousand children,
and each one I loved.

You were tall in France,
and short in Spain,
and often handsome
and occasionally bald and fat --
with blue eyes in Austria
and brown eyes in Italy.
You drank vodka from a hat
and played the violin.

You were Jack in England,
Juan in Peru,
and Tom in Hungary.
(What was that tune
you were always whistling?)

During the Ch'in dynasty
you bloodied my face
and broke my arm.

You cursed at me
everyday for centuries.
I have wept in many centuries.
You have scorned me too long.

Never have I hidden from you.
Always I met you at the station,
greeted you with a kiss.

You placed flowers on my grave --
not once have you wept.
I lay still in my favorite dress.

You cursed at me
everyday for centuries.
I have died in many centuries.

I shall come again
and wait for you at the station
and greet you with a kiss.


                 
©Ernest Slyman, 2000
  

contact:  Ernest_Slyman@worldnet.att.net
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