CONVERSE
They were two disembodied heads on bath cabinets,
Just like “Une tête de femme” by Rodin, in a show,
Save that each head was topped
By a ruffled rubber cap,
One rose-lined grey, one brown.
They were two female heads,
And yet they were not pretty,
At least not then.
They fixed their level-fronting eyes on a sanitary wall
In front of them
And waited.
The Bath Attendant turned a crank,
Consulted a thermometer, and vanished.
Time draggled warmly by.
Finally one head heaved a heavy sigh and turned itself
And looked at the other head,
Which bit its lip and frowned.
Since names seem meaningless
When souls converse,
Let us call these souls quite simply Grey and Brown.
The one that heaved and turned itself was Brown;
The one that bit its lip was Grey.
“Are you pretending that you didn’t see me?”
Queried Brown.
“Oh no!” said Grey.
“I’ve been meaning to have a talk with you,” said Brown.
“And why not now?”
“And why not now?” said Grey.
“You may as well understand,” continued Brown,
“You’ve got to give him up.”
“Him up?” said Grey.
“That’s what I said,” said Brown.
“You very well know
His duty is to me. I bear his name,
I’ve given him seven children and a step,
All likely boys.
He’s very fond of them, you know.”
“I know,” said Grey.
“Well, what have you got to say?” Brown trembled on.
“Why don’t you speak?”
Grey murmured softly,
“Isn’t it hot in these?”
Brown looked at her and laughed.
“You’re pretty cool,” she said,
“But I’d like to tell you here and straight and now,
I’m tired of nonsense,
Tired of worrying,
And very, very tired of him and you.”
“Of him and me,” said Grey.
“I’ve cried and then I’ve laughed
And said I didn’t care,”
Said whimpering Brown.
“I’ve dressed myself up beautifully
And then again I’d slump,”
Said sniffling Brown.
“But nothing mattered.
If he came home bright and gay, of course I’d know
He’d been with you,
And if he came home different, then I’d know
He wished he were,
So gradually it didn’t matter much
Which way he was.
And then I thought I’d try and keep
The boys from knowing,
So I’d make up lies and plan;
With seven and the step
It took considerable planning,
But luckily the little ones don’t notice.
And now I’ve got you here, I’m going to have my say!”
“Your say,” said Grey.
“I’m going to get your promise here and now
To give him up for good,
Do you understand?”
“For good,” said Grey.
“Oh yes, I understand.”
“Or else,” and beetling Brown
Grew dark and terrible,
“You’ll be the co-respondent in a suit!”
“A suit,” said Grey.
“I said a suit,” said Brown,
“I mean a suit.
Moreover, as you haven’t said a word
I’ll bring it soon.”
“It soon,” said Grey.
And then the Attendant came,
Looked at the clock and then the thermometer,
Got sheets and led them out.
“Unless—” said Brown.
“Oh yes, unless—” said Grey.