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In temper
Maudlin Jones’ right ear frothed
in red bull-baiting fury
his beer whipped
into a frenzy
as he swirled his pint
in revival
at the busy but lonely bar.
In his wake
Maudlin Jones’ wife with tears
in her mashed potato
and onion gravy
lay on a cracked plate
dishwasher safe
her temples ached
in tandem
with the squeals in her spine.
Gripped in thoughts
licked by fear
kissed by pain
she took two small steps
one, to collect
hidden pennies
next, to cross the thresh
hold he had on her
for good
and she was gone
scarf against bitter Welsh wind
knotted beneath her chin
holding all her courage in.
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Concise and strong, it's has the perfect story telling effect with the lyrics of a poem.
"her temples ached/in tandem/with the squeals in her spine."
...brilliant
