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Postmodern Village
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your lover's house
by Francine DuBois

At first it didn't seem so much -
Sparing a room for a couple of weeks so you could think,
Get away from it all.

But now how it has changed,
As these things often do.
The forced silences and awkward pauses,
The stolen glances at the car keys
Hanging on their hook by the refrigerator
Means we're headed to your lover's house before long.

I don't see why I have to be here,
Flipping through an old magazine
Like I'm waiting for the dentist.
You're past the point of needing a chaperone
And you two are only fooling yourselves.
You could have driven here yourself,
Enjoyed being alone, given yourself to him and said,
iloveyouiloveyouohgodiloveyou
As you exclaim in breathy tones, staring out the window
On the car ride back to my house.

But I suppose I'm there so it doesn't count,
It's not real, it's all innocent,
Just a meeting of the minds, you say,
So you both can deny it all,
So you can have a lover and a husband
Since you can't have it all.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version
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