And it’s just another day

For the secret satin sheeted lover

Who hides behind the days of curves and covers

Avoiding the serves of each and any other

Nights alone at home

Pretending he will turn up

At the flick of an invisible switch in her head

She will hear the purring sound of a stingray or corvette

To do the bedtime tango

Enough to make the neighbours curtains twitch

Like automatic windshield wipers on half time

Telling herself she really is O.K

With the crazy cat call whistles

And office dog day foxes

Who plagiarise each other

And really haven’t got a clue

Pigeon holing all they see into shrinking violets

Or vixens who are there to be courted with disaster

Brought up on Disney princesses

And forever more

Until forever more across the street

Is caught in a parking lot or cheap motel

By the hour with somebody else’s fantasy

To become another statistic

In the ready rising ravaged savage marriage from hell

With screaming slamming doors

And open wounds stitched and tied together

With another bottle of red or bourbon

In a place where access for him is denied

Except for Saturdays to pick up the kids

Where he will take them to a movie

Or play a game with a leather or

Pigskin and hoops

Maybe chasing them across fields of glory

As they both count the scars

And the pride of fallen stars

Dressed up in another soap

For all to see in regular episodes on daytime T.V

While across the street

She watches and she listens from her bedroom

Of idle dreams until she is too tired

And sinks below the eider down of single pitted egress

Holding herself tight

Hunkered down against the night

And preparing for few hours

Of soporific sleeping blues

Where she can pray that one day

She can become the woman in her dreams

And not somebody else