Here I labour, never ending, never changing,
Dancing the housewives’ jig around my kitchen.
Over there is Eddie, larger than life in the lounge room.
Eddie is always in the lounge room,
Making me choose answers to all his questions -
Except when his beloved Pies are in the Finals;
Then he’s at the ‘G half-standing with suspense,
And you have to feel really sorry for his boys.
For now he doesn’t raise a sweat, even under the studio lights.
His skin smooth and moisurized, his face so relentlessly jolly.
The he says, “Let’s get on with it!”
As if he has not been the chatty one.
Meanwhile I languish in the heat of stove, oven, microwave, sink
And wonder what his kitchen is like,
And if his wife is dancing the housewives’ jig.
Copyright Marion MacNally 2013