Every evening the gruesome twosome
comes trudging through the sludge
heading home to another silent dinner
followed by hours of ogling TV
despite decreptitude they continue
performing daily functions
orifices opening and closing
hands groping for a can of worms
once they told me about their lack of sexual desire.
"It's really not so bad, it could be a lot worse"
not so bad enduring forty years of mental cruelty
wedded to irreconcilable differences
