The Ex-Husband Speaks

The Ex-Husband Speaks

Mary Crow


Her hips were the pillow
I ruined myself on --

the porch for my swing --
how I would do it,


and do it! As if a wind
tipped the sprocket of pelvis


and I became a machine
she could not stop.


But who wove the spell
I suffered under?


And who could break it?
Whose was the will


that eddied and eddied
and who was the still pool


it emptied into?
And where, where was the joy?



Copyright ©1996 Mary Crow.
Posted over on The Marlboro Review