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End of Marriage
by Lois Ungar

I

Sometimes I rush on
so much to do
at my mother's
I didn't cook
or wash dishes
as if I didn't know how to

II

sometimes the hate fills me
if he's drinking or stoned
and sometimes he calls me
and I say I love you
Rage

barbarian degenerate
I want to stick my nails
into his stoned flesh
I want to beat him and hurt him
and make it go away
I want a spiritual man that
I can count on.

III

I woke up one day and realized
I had 4 children
I wanted you to be sorry
to make it up to me
but you don't care
you care about the next drink
the next puff of dope
the next bit of childhood
and irresponsibility you can cling to

IV


I woke up one morning and realized
I had raised 4 children
Someone's drunk all the time or stoned
forces you to be the grownup
never able to relax and have fun
never time never money for the things that are
meaningful to me
on guard we walked on eggshells my daughter said
in the one room sugar cabin
wood heat hauling water
the fourth child took all the attention
throwing tantrums rages yelling at children
mama trying to make it all right
oldest child doesn't sleep
one eye open all the time
in log cabin
sugar house
where mama bled and seven year old daughter
tended to her
where was papa
off in NY on vacation
the snow fell
and daughter wished he hadn't come home at all

V
I stayed home and didn't go to class the night
of the healing
And you said here's your pen I didn't use it
thanks
Next nite you weren't stoned or drunk or
anything
And when you went out for a drink with
a friend I didn't mind
because that's not the same as being
drunk stoned alone
and besides I could meditate

and later after I had looked into flames
read some poetry and put on velvet robe
I wondered where you were

all the blades cripple
then gingerly people deal with each other
not to offend

a blue tablecloth
a blue mountain
sapphire the color of the Shekinah

it goes without saying near the edge

someone told me how her husband left her

puzzelment in her voice

VI

Now he's told me that our sex is no good
but he still loves me
puts the mouth of the beer bottle into my mouth
would rather wait till I really want him
I push leaves around
the beer makes me a little high
I could climb on the chair and watch television
but in confusion after breaking a favorite cup
I read a book in bed

VII
Once lovers
now in separate rooms
she reads a poem
about someone
putting his lover
in a bed with a
white satin cover
and wishes he
would do that
for her

VIII

now that he has broken
open the vault
my gems
that really are
in the box
long to come out
Alone in her neat room

Alone in her neat room
there are times that she regrets
that she has not seen
my red sox my plaid nightgown
my disarrayed room
drank my coffee
chatted with me in my living room

there is eternity
to be hoped for
and spirits hovering
around
with only true
feelings

left a doll with her
I know I left it to remind her of me
sometimes


Girls of Privilege

there have always been girls of privilege
girls of success
sometimes they're born with it
sometimes they just have it

mommy put the napkins on the table
everyone had one but me
she said see how careless you are
you already lost your napkin

Coming back

she was of the generation that called children
names like moonbeam and flower
she was moon. she stood
on a warm rock overlooking the river
He was an Indian. I like my
hair long he said. It's nice when
you've just washed it.
they touched (hands) fingertips.
sometimes that's all there was touching fingertips
which was enough.

one day he said
I like Tel Aviv.
It had taken a lot of years
So she made cakes
In between the layers she put jam
they stretched straight up to the sky.

Lives can be cut with a bullet or an illness
So be patient when lives are cut with a relationship

Lois Ungar is a poet who made her way from the New York stage to Vermont and then Israel.

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