he is, so he’ll not cross this threshold.
how he never told me
till much later
that he had mumps
so we could not have anymore.
how he made his late daughter’s children
into pounds and pence.
how I found him alone upstairs
in our marriage house with a young lass.
how he kept on about a lass
in the post office,
so I says “If you leave this house
to see her you’ll not enter it again.”
how he got Alzheimer’s and didn’t know
me, grabbed my wrists till they hurt.
how our lives all went bad when he married
our only daughter.
His ship’ll not dock here. His feet’ll
not touch this hallowed ground.