Scene:
  
3 A.M.

The Husband and The Wife lie in bed,
asleep.

The punch line:

3:02 A.M.

The Wife, stubbornly inert,
had not yet shut her eyes.

She is practicing the art of stillness
in the midst of a bloodbath

3:05 A.M.

soon to be brought about by her own wretched hands.
Above the sheets, she grips
the mirrored blade she stole from Williams-Sonoma
at 12:12 P.M., yesterday.

The husband breathes,

3:15 A.M.

bathed in sick, sick ignorance, but,
as the wife knows in all 206 of her bones,
not a drop of innocence.

She does not concern herself with the (During: 3: 51 A.M.)
****** itself,
even as her weapon slides cleanly between the goal-posts,
because she is already four steps past this act,

4:15 A.M.

scrubbing herself down with lye
and transferring the stained dish-rags from Wash to Dry.

The Morning After:
doesn’t really matter, it is all a performance
directed by necessity.

The wife stands at her kiln
(what a strange and extravagant wedding gift)

8:00 A.M.

and convinces herself that innocence
is a four-letter word, used exclusively by lying
men like The Husband--
who speak only in threats and backhanded
compliments.

In their fatal blindness, these men lie down in bed--
so very stupidly--
with the targets of their rage, the twisted products
of fear and resentment and bone-cold courage.

And The Husband stands tall with his cruelty--

Even at the moment of death (4:00 A.M.)
Even in the wake of his own burning flesh (8:01 A.M.).

Welcome to the stage on which
Life is lived as a performance
Welcome to the office in which
Every day is a job interview, where
Work is nothing more than being looked at
And admired
And despised
And envied

Welcome to a new bank account, with
More money than anyone needs, and
More pressure than anyone deserves, to
Spend it as tabloids demand

Welcome to criticism, for clothing choices –
Too last-year
Too slutty
Too creative
Too similar to someone else
Not flattering enough
Not slutty enough
Not daring enough

Welcome to scrutiny, over
Every romantic detail
Every baby’s name
Welcome to mockery

Welcome to an opportunity to
Use your voice
Take a stand
Make a change
Welcome to pressure to
Toe the line
Stay mainstream
Take no risks

Welcome to a new form of slavery, offering
Wealth and adoration
Freedom for some and shackles for others
Welcome to a ruined, wasted life lived short of its potential –
Relationships missed
Role in the home passing by, and
A tempting, all-you-can-eat buffet of mental health issues

Welcome to a new status, to be
Cool
The centre of attention
Off trend
Forgotten

Welcome to the celebrity contradiction
Attention-grabbers, with
Demands for privacy

Welcome to someone just like
Me –
And
You

Self appointed prophet
Putting forth prayers and
Pamphlets as you tear
The room asunder --

No regard for mortals,
But you brush it off with
A smile so sweet, a touch
Of the arm and divine influence --
After all, it’s your duty

Hands raise in the air,
You plead us to join you,
To save our souls and
Get redemption in turn
For a half-hearted prayer

If searching souls and
Turning them pure is your
Mission, then dear Susan,
You need to face the mirror
To truly find God

You never missed a mark
Firing right for my heart
Sent the bullet rippling through
My flesh and left me gaping

Whole, i thought i was before
You came along, taking aim
With your charming darts
Darling, I’m ****** I missed you
When I shot up high

I’ve climbed the wall
Been up high,
Basked in twinkling lights
Told the past goodbye
Trapped in a corner
For so long, a passive
Doormat for you to come
And stomp your shoes on
In hopes that one day
It’d be me who once more
Swept you off your feet but
I have risen, I have seen
That life goes on, that
I could grow and change
And yes, my darling, it’s true --
I no longer desire
To be married to you.
Go and turn around now:
The door is open --
I’m telling you goodbye.

Golly, goodness,
My oh my!
You can’t leave yet--
It’s barely time!
What do you mean
You’re to be married?
How scary, oh --
Say, where are you going?
Don’t run away!
Look here, my darling
I cannot tell a lie
I’ve a baby in my bedroom
And he’s not a little guy!
Oh, god, he’s drawing near
Come quickly -- or else
I might become a leopard's feast!
Ah, yes-- one moment --
There you are! But
Don’t be angry, dear,
I needed you to
Drop on by. Let us go
Now, off to auntie’s
In the quiet countryside!
You might be late,
But I’ll be sure you arrive
Oh -- goodness, me oh my
We’re filthy animals, silly
So take this towel and
Rinse on off! -- Oh?
What’s that?
You need your clothes?
Oh dear, I sent them off to town
To be ironed and cleaned
Sit pretty in my robe and--
Oh! Dear oh me,
Here comes auntie!
We must hide baby
But he’s run away
Where oh where,
My oh my --
Now we’re in jail
What am I ever to say?
You see, I messed it up
Your plans, your night,
I dragged you here
To help because
I quite like -- love you!
Oh, what have I said?
What a fool am I,
I’m sorry for the mess
Sniffle, hm? Oh-yes?
You’ve something to say?
Oh tell me now, do confess
Y-you love me too?
Oh darling, this is too good
For it all to be true!
Let’s have another day of fun
But I promise, this time,
We won’t go on a wild chase!

Letty Lynton,
Let me in,
Pretty little
Girl within
Kiss me kindly
Dapper dame
With your beauty
And your fame