‘When you gonna fly away?’
She asked him
Gathered as they were over the dinner table.
She’d eyed him with suspicion.
These past weeks
Always was he talking about going away.
‘Can’t stand another minute here,’ he’d said
‘The incessant nagging, the bitching
Before my life’s over
I’m gonna fly away.’
‘Where you gonna go,’ she drawled at him
‘’Who you gonna get wash your stinkin’ clothes
Cook your dinners and scrub ya back?’
‘Plenty women jump at a chance with a man like me.’
‘Yep,’ she said and thought a moment.
‘Plenty of stupid women out there.’
‘Well you is one of them,’ he muttered
His chin had drool from his soup
His beard speckled with crumbs from the stale bread.
‘You’ll soon find out you can do a while lot worse than me.’
‘I doubt that.’ He replied
So began the weekly argument
The saying this and that
Names flying left and right
The obscenity of their life
Laid bare in front of them.
Exhausted they went to their rooms
Fell into their beds
Wondered for a moment of days past
When they fell into each other’s arms
But now they were grotesque reminders of youth.
They shuddered at the thought of intimacy.
I’m flying way thought the man
Not today but tonight
Like every night
I’m flying away.
In a room at the end of the hallway
The woman who suffered his ignorance
Had already flown.