Where is Adultery?



Mary was sitting at her desk trying to decide whether to throw out a book called Schrodinger ‘s equation for idiots.The title had more than one meaning, she thought to herself.
I think that is for the recycling bin, she told her cat, Emile.What a pity you can’t read.You could have read it.
I don’t want to read stuff like that.I only like Dad’s cartoon books.
Where are they, Mary asked him, her eyes shining like melting Danish butter on a hot croissant?
They are in that plastic box in the kitchen, Emile told her.I read them at night.
How can you read if there is no light?Please don’t start sinning as I don’t want you to have to become a Catholic.
I can’t become a Catholic, said Emile.I am Jewish.
Well, St Paul was Jewish, Mary told him.Until he had an epileptic fit .
So having a fit can make you a Christian.That is very strange, the black cat told her with a twinkle in his eyes
Well, it’s not automatic, Mary replied.You have to pay
.What, pay to become a Christian, I don’t believe Jesus would like that.
Well , he may be quite indulgent, sometimes Mary giggled.However, the Vatican and its wealth might not be quite what he was thinking of when he gave the Sermon on the Mount.
What sort of mount was it , Emile enquired.Was it a horse?
No, it was more likely to have been a donkey as he was poor, you know
But he had things money can’t buy, the cat said philosophically.Like women who poured oil over his feet.What sort was it,?Was it like that stuff Stan put in the car engine sometimes?
Don’t be so ridiculous.It was olive oil, Mary told him
Can we prove that, Emile murmured? His feet were no salad
No, I am using inductive reasoningMary stated logically.Olive trees are grown in that part of the world even now.
What is inductive reasoning, Emile mewed
Why it’s the opposite of deductive reasoning, of course, Mary stated flatly
I am glad I can’t read, Emile said.
It’s bad for you to have to learn all of that.It was ok for the ancient Greeks.They had no televisions.I’d rather watch Andrea Bocelli and Hayley Westenra singing Vivo per lei.Whatever that means.She is from New Zealand by the way.
What difference does that make Mary teased him?
No need to be rude, Emile cried.I was only passing a remark
That was what Stan’s mother used to say when he told her off for saying my maple mousse was like something out of a tin.
Where was it from?The Joy of Cookery. a big American cook book or maybe Jewish Cookery by Florence Greenberg or Marks and Spencers
Did you get that book because I am Jewish, Emile purred?
No, I didn’t even know you were.How did it happen?
My mother was living with a Rabbi in Liverpool and he told her she could not miaow on the Sabbath so she kind of assumed she was Jewish.As for my father.. nobody knows.
Emile, don’t start saying you are the Messiah.I have enough trouble already.I don’t want you to be walking on water and helping women taken in adulteryI
was not me who took them, said Emile.I don’t even know where Adultery is.
I think I’ll ring 999.We need help before we go mad.
Sometimes going mad seems the better option, Mary said sadly.A few voices telling me what to do might be helpfulAs long as they are not Michael Grove and Horace Watson, Emile replied. And so say all of us

Old Norse

I must change my name, it is too long
Even folk from Yorkshire get it wrong
As for those techniciians far away
My long name is very hard to say

I could take the action via law
Or marry someone with a name like Shaw
Smith is overused when we don’t ride
Lord would be ok, can we abide?

I’m tired of being asked to spell it out
It hurts the listener who knows not its roots
Banks and braes are well known to the Scots
Thwaite is an old Norse word . what the heck

We must be invaders who burst in
Killing Celts and Saxons, is that sin?

The structures we lean on

The bones, the shape, the structure all are one
On that  form , we hang our little words.
Destroy the shape  and all  my poem is gone

The structure gives us something to lean on
To aid  creation , to make meaning shared
The bones, the shape, the structure all are one

Inflexibility is death, not fun
We fly upon the breezes as do birds
Negate that fact  and all real life is gone

Vulnerable to pain and hunter’s gun
We must not  live as  if all change is barred
The life, the shape, the structure come to one

Here and there we  drop a hint or pun
Into the patient hand we  drop wild cards
Negate that deed  and all real life is gone

Whose the heart by metal  strips destroyed?
What will be the outcome  what the buoy?
The bones, the shape, the structure all are one
Destroy the shape  and all  my poem is gone