you would have to watch your step
walking from one end of the room
to the other;
there are broken shards of glass
from the doorway of the dining room
to the staircase;
when I tipped over the lamp
and when you threw your scotch glass
and it shattered on the wall
when you missed.
I shouldn’t have called you a cunt.
But you deserved it.
I don’t even remember
how the aquarium broke.
We never even bothered
to make chalk mark figures on the wooden floors
where each fish had gasped its last breath.
Fourteen casualties of this bloody war;
I think they were the lucky ones.
The neighbours, who I know are keeping score,
will prove that I won this fight.
I won most of the arguments
and called you the most names
and you threw the scotch glass first.
You lost your cool.
I lost my living room set.
Maybe, now, we’re even.
But I know you’ll be back
for round forty-eight,
if I were counting,
because you left your favourite scarf
on the lazy boy,
and I know you didn’t forget it
because you grabbed it
and mimed hanging yourself
to warn me of the trouble I’ll be in
if I continue on about your indiscretions.
Did you think I wouldn’t know?
How stupid do you think I am?
Well, stupid enough to know,
you will be back, like you planned;
and not to send the scarf to you
as to give you reason to come back
and have another go.
Round forty-nine will begin pretty soon.
The neighbours are already making popcorn.
We should be selling tickets.
I’d hate to disappoint them.
But this is the last time we are fighting here.
Aquariums are expensive, you know?
And you aren’t that good in bed.