The Maynard
Spring 2014

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In my version of heaven

One husband is
lying
on one side
of me
and one
on the other
and on
each  side
of them are
their earlier
wives
and lovers and
theirs next
to them
and there is
no jealousy
where we lie
with the scattered
detritus
of a child’s
colourful
band aid
and torn corners
of potato chip
wrappers
and discarded
Tosca flyers
but the day
is mild
and we laugh
all together
at those low
moans we
made
in pleasure
or pain
and how
little
it all means
now