You think more
of Mr Eddington
her father said
than almost

anything else
and she knew she did  
but her father drew the line
at her having him in her bed

and her mother
wasn’t so keen either
I don’t want cat’s hairs
on the pillowcases

or on those sheets
or blankets
and so Mr Eddington
had to stay out

of her bed
and be content
to sit by the window
or on the window ledge

or on the small carpet
by the chest of drawers
and don’t feed
the **** cat

at the table
her father said
it isn’t polite
to have cat’s spittle

on your hands
while eating
and so she sat
on the chair

with one foot
on the stool
in that
I don’t give

a **** pose
and Mr Eddington
sat himself
comfortably

by the stool
and she sang him
one of those
Rock and Roll songs

she liked or recited
an Ezra Pound poem
which her father disliked
or she put her hands

behind her head
and whistled part
of an Elvis Presley song
which her mother said

wasn’t ladylike at all
and to sit like that
her father said
with your leg up

with underclothes showing
is just not on at all
now sit like a lady
would sit

he said
and there were times
Jezebel thought
she wished them

both dead
so long as Mr Eddington
was there
she just didn’t care.