My husband brushed my hair when it was long

I ate an apple with some  quiche lorraine
Tomorrow I shall eat the same again
Boredom or monotony  is bad
I’m sorry but I’m feeling very sad

I like chocolate,I like double cream
I’ll soon get diabetes, intervene
Get the doctor here and I will weep
My feelings like the underground run deep

I threw away the beef  and ate the cheese
Don’t blame me,I  never aim to please
Of course I am a liar but just when?
That’s the koan, soon we will be Zen

We need skin  or we would fall apart
I don’t want to see Dom Cummings’ heart

I   never liked  his manners and his dress
Thank you,Father,now I can confess

Boundaries are also contact zones
Think like this and you will write a poem
Love like mine is precious do not spill
The  precious blood, the Body on the Hill

Stroking other people is so nice
I pretend that I have seen a thousand lice
Then I hope that they will all stroke me
If only it were summer  they might see 

My husband brushed my hair when it was long
Now he’s dead I cut it off with prongs
I want him to come back  but noone can
Like Catholic sex  it’s sinful  so it’s banned

He used to make the dinner every day
Now he’s left me I shall have to pray
Does God expect me to survive on grass
As a meal  after we go to Mass?

I gave him flasks of tea to  drink in bed
I read the Emile stories,Satan fled
When he smiled and nodded then I wept
Why did noone help me pass the test?

I washed his clothes as often as I could
8 pyjamas, hankies ,was it good?
In the end he wore a dressing gown
It has coloured spots on and it’s brown

 

I welcome comments and criticism

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