Txt Sex

Text messaging,
the first hot Sunday in May-
he: I hope you’re doing something
wild. I’m
busy with lambing.
She: Sun-bathing
out the back,
does that count as wild?
He: That depends
on how naked you are…

She pictures him delivering,
arm-deep
in placenta,
imagining her nakeder, fuller,
redder than she really is, outside
on a blue rug holding
a silver mobile phone.

She turns over, pale still,
unhooks her bra;
they joke about his sad life
chatting to sheep
phone dating,
dreaming of nakedness
in Edenbrook Heights.

If she were less prudent,
She’d ask him over now,
shower him, sponge each finger carefully,
massage his neck and armpits
with apricot soap;
but it’s not like that with them,
his wedding band has left a mark
that no lamb’s blood can cover.
She dresses, texts goodbye
and phones
the take-away.

Mastectomy

You get given
certain things in twos -

love-birds, book-ends,
matching china tea mugs-

and even though
on any given morning

it is all you even think of
to hook one fine china

top designer
duck-blue tea-mug

from your dry beech
draining rack

to boil and pour and stir
and watch Darjeeling towers spiral;

there are still the days
when there is company for breakfast,

and on these fine mornings
let me tell you

it is good to know
that there are two

extra special, same but different
unchipped breakfast blue mugs

made to grace
your table.

My Husband, The Dog Whisperer

He has taken to quoting
from Cesar Millan,
dog whisperer to the stars,
or at least to the dogs
of the stars.

“It's all about nose,
then eyes, then ears”,
as he sifts the dog's dinner
through his fingers,
folding it with his scent.

He practises the soft bite
on my shoulder,
forming a jaw with his hand,
restrains me as a bitch would her pups;
then practises on the hound.

He turns down the volume
on our favourite series
to nuzzle me gently,
stroke my back, remind me
to get inside the canine mind.

He tries out some whispering
during the ads,
some rehabilitation,
and Minnie does active submission
like she's read the book herself.

The main thing, he tells me,
is that dogs are not just humans
in designer coats;
but I'm starting to wonder
are humans just naked dogs ?

Email Shirley McClure