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MARY JENKINS


In Tidy Town



white picket fences spike
sharp edged gardens
full blown roses follow upright tulips
         a serpentine hose dribbles across grass

you can see through a window
no-one is watching tv
but it doesn’t shut up
blurred figures fight
there are gunshots     while

mother quickly tidies up
clears dishes from the table puts
last night’s chop bones into the bin
pours pink detergent in the sink so
the peanut butter jars will sparkle

by the time Dennis parks his truck
a tray will be laid
his slippers arranged
in front of the chair
                       the cat is warming
Channel 7 news will be on

his lunch time visit to
Mrs Brody’s blue velvet rooms –
upstairs in the local pub –
will have soothed his nerves

given him an appetite for
Friday’s meal of leftovers
and a stubby or five
he can settle in
without even switching channels
or wondering what mother did today.