Domestic Bliss
Domestic Bliss There’s wet washing to hang up in the kitchen I need a cup of tea You could crack open a hard-boiled egg between us Your mother hasn’t seen me for a while No doubt she is immersed in drama and dust Among the sofas I settle for a packet of cheese and onion crisps And lie on the bed I made Too much water under the mattress While you sleep in front of the TV Nothing between us now Except an ironing board And a row of clean pressed shirts No longer on my phone We wait to see who will leave first You in a box Or me on a train Jane Frances