A Man in the House

She wonders
why I’m still here
so long after the wedding cake,
after the beach house,
 after the hand-in-hand shopping
for all those things that purr in the kitchen
like cats.
She seems curious
that there’s always this face
in the corner of her full-length mirror,
this form that spaniels her
from room to fresh-swept room,
this voice that’s always asking questions
instead of favours.
‘Who are you, really?’
The question flutters behind her eyes
but has never got past those firm lips;
so we still brush against each other in bed
and collide in front of the fridge.
She knows I have not cried
recently, that I probably pay the rent;
and now she begins to suspect me
of loitering
with intent…

from Interiors (Dangaroo Press. 1989), Mark McWatt 1989, used by permission of the author

Mark McWatt in the Poetry Store

The free tracks you can enjoy in the Poetry Archive are a selection of a poet’s work. Our catalogue store includes many more recordings which you can download to your device.