The Kitsch in the Dress
The kitsch
In the dress-
Unimpressed Empress.
Scarlet eyes
Of ruby and stone;
They made her body petite,
Pristine for the throne.
He came along,
Thick neck, no bones,
Suit and watch,
Heavy groans
Of conversation.
A boy; all body, no voice,
Muscles of ember, no choice
But to marry with flare.
The perfect pair
Of selfish romantics.
Wine at 8- first the pool,
Then balcony date.
Hardly young, already
Bound by an oath.
Their life always a rich man’s squander. From
Birth: Dresses and designer
And plastic eyes or
Plastic ears that could not hear.
She gave birth, they began to give
A penny or half at Christmas.
If the profit was good.
Another son or two appeared.
They hired: a mistress for the child,
An advisor for the cash,
A chef, trainer, assistant.
Never an empty room- palace full of things.
Silly fortuned couple
Married only for the ring.
“Made for each other” in the annual cards “with love.”
She didn't even love her mother,
Pleasantly unloved.
She knew she liked her handbags,
He knew he liked her hips,
And they spoke of love like bank accounts:
A profit for business trips.
“Made for each other” mantelpiece,
beside stiff backs and eyes.
The family shook hands. Sat down.
Ties on. Alone, opposite each stranger,
She'd silently rearrange her
knife and fork, make talk of
News from tabloids.
Weekends they reserved for substance misuse.
Went to parties- let loose.
Went onto the balcony, whenever.
Sipped something stronger;
Emotional abuse forced
A nightly routine to gulp away
What the “smitten lovers” couldn’t say.
But they made it. Golden anniversary.
The couple turned to brass;
He a flute, and she a glass,
Him a needle, her a brute.
Such a shame the two
Were stuck, bound and cast,
To last in certificates.
Old oath, old eyes.
In celebration the happy romantics
Shrank into the skies
On a jet to Malibu.
Drank into the seas
With the shoals,
Their skulls
To shells.
New home: a hell
Underwater.
Swam in it
Til death.
At last,
apart.
(Inspired by Mrs Faust by Carol Ann Duffy)
