At last, she had it all -- a maid to clean
And cook, a nanny who could watch the kids,
And cash enough for her to at last ween
Herself from any kind of work. Her bids
To empty herself of the misery
Of doing anything at all soon found
Their price in endless sameness on T.V.
And with her Facebook friends. The couch now drowned
Her worse than any job she'd hated. She
At last found someone local who would chat
In Facebook, private, promise heavenly
Excitement if she'd see him in his flat.
Her boredom dissipated with the risk --
Of getting caught, of pregnancy, his hair
Attaching to her clothes -- her breath was brisk
Each time she left her house for her affair.
She would not stay to get to know the man --
She did not want him to replace her life --
A roller coaster ride's what she began
And nothing else -- she was her husband's wife
When he returned from work. Her passion for
Her husband kept the nanny busy keeping
The children ignorant. She wanted more
Of him -- at morning, evening, even sleeping.
But when her lover wanted more (we seem
Unsatisfied when we have what we want),
She told him she was but a silly dream
And asked him not to make her be more blunt.
When he insisted, she found someone new
To be her danger, roller coaster ride --
A Facebook block from her, and they were through.
She never heard about his suicide.
Her second lover she discarded when
She found his techniques boring, and the third
When he grew jealous. She went through ten men
Before she found her hobby too absurd.
So now instead of taking daily showers
To wash the smell of sex away, she cares
For windowsills of complex orchid flowers
Whose seedlings she most generously shares.
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