"The hot night makes us keep our bedroom windows open. <br />Our magnolia blossoms.Life begins to happen. <br />My hopped up husband drops his home disputes, <br />and hits the streets to cruise for prostitutes, <br />free-lancing out along the razor's edge. <br />This screwball might kill his wife, then take the pledge. <br />Oh the monotonous meanness of his lust. . . <br />It's the injustice . . . he is so unjust-- <br />whiskey-blind, swaggering home at five. <br />My only thought is how to keep alive. <br />What makes him tick?Each night now I tie <br />ten dollars and his car key to my thigh. . . . <br />Gored by the climacteric of his want, <br />he stalls above me like an elephant."<br /><br />Robert Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/quot-to-speak-of-woe-that-is-in-marriage-quot/
