Modern Love

or, The Adequate Adulterer

A winsome widow dreamed

of a love affair

with a man tall and handsome,

cultured, debonair

Wealthy, with biceps

In well-fitted suits

gallant, bearing flower

in ardent pursuit.

Instead she met a man

of average height

married and balding,

but

unusually bright.

Available on Thursdays

(every other week)

understandably distracted,

her attention was piqued.

Their first date he told her

he couldn’t commit,

his wife, unstable

and given to fits.

His life was not his,

his dreams were on hold

he confessed to her secrets

hidden deep in his soul.

He held back tears

so sensitive, so circumspect.

Not perfect, she mused,

but what can you expect?

It’s so difficult to find

in this modern day,

a man like her dearly departed,

so perfect in every way.

Their second date he cancelled,

called later on to say,

An emergency at home;

He’d thought of her all day.

Their third date he told her

it couldn’t go on.

Their fourth date, they parted

a last dance to their song.

They met for coffee later,

to process and to grieve

To sort out a few misunderstandings

thing she’d misperceived.

They declared themselves soul mates

in another life,

How could a love as pure as theirs

cause such pain and strife?

After six months of therapy,

his wife had had enough.

Their divorce acrimonious;

she threw out all his stuff.

The next day he moved in

He’d also lost his job

For months all he did

was lay on her couch and sob

Soon she noticed

little things

she hadn’t seen before:

He never did the dishes,

or held for her the door.

He rambled on about his pain,

but never thought to ask

about her needs, still unmet

The traumas of her past

She changed all the locks

to dampen his ardor.

She dated other men.

He promised he’d try harder.

After three months of therapy

they made a breakthrough;

He had commitment issues,

in fact, he had pursued

A woman much younger,

more understanding, kind,

someone with whom,

he could speak his true mind.

He didn’t wish to hurt her,

His loyalty was torn

But she was so judgmental,

so ready to scorn

his feelings and his needs;

she made such strict demands.

He tried, but this new love

was out of his hands.

Modern love is complicated,

the winsome widow mused,

while into his soup she stirred

laburnum seeds diffused.

He died suddenly,

before he had dessert,

Naturally she was distraught,

but she couldn’t quite avert

her eyes from a cousin

Who’d come to pay respects,

recently divorced,

still friends with his ex

She cried on his shoulder,

he offered her a tissue.

Shorter than she liked,

but everyone has issues.

It’s so difficult, she told him,

in this modern day,

to find love like my dearly departed,

so perfect in every way.

From For Adults Who Were Once Children