My Wife's Murder

I wish my wife were dead
Or I could have her smashed in the head
I hire a man,
And tell him my plan,
But he elopes with her instead.

She once was a princess, of beauty non-pareil,
Haughty as expected and tough as a nail.
But I was a charmer, quick to woo,
And a couple of months later we said ‘I do’,
Regret, I do, but of no avail.

So last month as I, on the sly, had a fag,
Thought, “Enough I’ve had of this old hag,
A nag is she, if there was,
Day-in, day-out, without a pause,
To go she must, without any further lag.”

And lo-presto, Young Joe, the mighty I hired,
But that ingrate my kids he sired,
When on that Sunday morning clear,
Instead of knocking out my dear,
Her rear end he admired.

My dear had one hard to miss,
She reciprocated, thrilled, with a kiss,
Vanished, the feared mightiness of Young Joe,
As he was shoved into passion’s violent throe,
To be soon bounded in marital bliss!!

Sunday, at our place of work, is the busiest day,
‘Cos you see we work at the zoo by S’Frisco bay.
Young Joe, whose cage was way out yonder,
Didn’t on get-away cars have to ponder,
The tiny zoo train did its rounds this day.

A gorilla driving a train people will kill to see,
Alas, eyewitnesses there would in thousands be.
Well, my dear, though, would no longer remain,
To challenge a gorilla on the loose you got to be insane!!
Freedom, at last, wouldn’t elude me.

So you can imagine the zookeepers’ consternation great,
When mighty Joe, who had entered my cage with a thunderous gait,
Was, with a meek kiss, to a young ‘joey’ reduced
So much so that sonnets to my dear’s brow he produced
And chose the most ill tempered she-giraffe as his mate.

Now I lay wait at the end of the train line,
Chatting up the latest addition to the collection, equine.
When up trots my neighbour in his Sunday best,
(White on black or black on white, oh, give it a rest!)
To tell me my dear was no longer mine.

On being interrupted, the pretty equine was in a rage,
But my loss was greater; I mourned the loss of Joe’s wage,
My dear I would not sorely miss
But my juiciest grapes were already his.
Well, his they could be, anything to get rid off Paige.


But my stars I thanked a little too soon,
‘Cos on returning from their honeymoon,
Joe and Paige moved in next door
And laid claim to the green patch I so adore,
But to challenge a gorilla I aint no loon.

Now here I am, both free and not
Baby-sitting the kids they begot,
For the departure of my ex from the scene,
Wasn’t as rewarding as I had foreseen,
A solitary existence I prefer not.

This was my entry for the online Creative Writing Competition at Saarang, 2006..the annual cultural festival of my institue blah blah. We were given the first stanza and asked to complete the story. The outcome..a wing mate won and a common friend didn't mince words when she told me that she read the other's entry (which happened to be on the same topic) and liked it, said it was like some "stud max" poet had written it..man that deflates the balloon called my ego and pops it outta sight over the horizon.