My Ex-Husband
by
Gabriel Serpa
| That's my ex-husband pictured on the shelf, Smiling as if in Love. I took it myself With his Leica, and stuck it in that frame We got for our wedding. Kind of a shame To waste it on him, but what could I do? (Since I haven't got a photograph of you.) I know what's on your mind--you want to know Whatever could have made me let him go-- He seems like any woman's perfect catch, What with his ruddy cheeks, the thin mustache, Those close-set, baggy eyes, that titled grin. But the snapshots don't show what's beneath the skin! He had a certain charm, charisma, style, That passionate, earnest glance he struck, meanwhile Whispering the sweetest things, like "Your lips Are like plump rubies, eyes like diamond chips," Could flush the throat of any woman, not Just mine. He knew the most romantic spots In town, where waiters, who all knew his face, Reserved an intimatley dim-lit place Half-hidden in a corner nook. Such stuff Was all too well rehearsed, I soon enough Found out. He had an attitude--how should I put it--smooth, self-satisfied, too good For the rest of the world, too easily Impressed with his officious self. And he flirted--fine!but flirted somehow a bit Too ardently, too blatantly, as if, If someone ever noticed, no one cared How slobbishly he caried on affairs. |
Who'd lower herself to put up with shit |