This Man's a Freud
Posted: Sun Jan 04, 2004 4:45 pm
I put Sigmund Freud in a toothbrush mug
arms high, waving his knowledge and his confidence,
after all, only fools or niche psychoanalysts
dare to wear bow-ties.
In his right hand, probably a cigar
maybe a burnt pencil,
either way, ready to tap the ashes
of the burning relationship I bring him.
In that same bathroom accessory,
late at night,
husband sleeping,
wife returns,
anxious creeping
she gargles clean her consensual infidelity.
Now, here’s a strange one-
a month ago
she knew a ton of feathers weighed
as much as a ton of lead,
but that the burden of sharing
matched the burden of secrecy
was not within her head.
Her man-
now here’s a strange one
strong enough to be weak
a week enough to make him wonder
if his boast that monogamy was unnatural,
unlike beech or oak,
was really just a middle-class theory.
Anyway, she comes there
then she comes back,
then she comes again,
and he hasn’t a clue
if he is any happier now
than he ever was.
And that will be £100,
Sigmund says,
from one mug to another.
arms high, waving his knowledge and his confidence,
after all, only fools or niche psychoanalysts
dare to wear bow-ties.
In his right hand, probably a cigar
maybe a burnt pencil,
either way, ready to tap the ashes
of the burning relationship I bring him.
In that same bathroom accessory,
late at night,
husband sleeping,
wife returns,
anxious creeping
she gargles clean her consensual infidelity.
Now, here’s a strange one-
a month ago
she knew a ton of feathers weighed
as much as a ton of lead,
but that the burden of sharing
matched the burden of secrecy
was not within her head.
Her man-
now here’s a strange one
strong enough to be weak
a week enough to make him wonder
if his boast that monogamy was unnatural,
unlike beech or oak,
was really just a middle-class theory.
Anyway, she comes there
then she comes back,
then she comes again,
and he hasn’t a clue
if he is any happier now
than he ever was.
And that will be £100,
Sigmund says,
from one mug to another.