Ode to my grumpy wife
My wife was hanging pictures on the wall
about the time I asked her what’s for tea,
she screamed, “your dinner’s in the shopping mall!”
How could she speak that way to poor old me?
The next day she was underneath the car
with socket set and spanners all around,
I told her I was heading to the bar
but woke up later, lying on the ground,
a twenty-three mil socket near my head
with loads of blood – I thought someone had died!
“Take that lot to the pub!” I think she said.
It spoiled my night, however hard I tried
to understand the workings of my wife,
she’s been like this throughout our married life!
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Author:
FrasMac (
Offline) - Published: September 21st, 2026 12:00
- Comment from author about the poem: A sonnet (sort of) about being a kept man. (sort of)
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: sorenbarrett, Cheeky Missy
Offline)
Comments3
This sounds all to much familiar for comfort. I was told that it all has to do with expectations I expected to have a comfortable life and she expected me not to. A fun read my friend and worth a fave.
I like this one. Sounds like you married a very useful bitch. Beautifully rendered with excellent imagery and a haunting poignancy which is balanced off by a jaunty sense of humor. Thank you for sharing.
How language and attitudes with it change with the years. The well known "England expects that every man will do his duty”, has evolved down south I’m sure. Women’s role in public affairs has changed ever since Margaret Thatcher. Could it not be that north of the border no such evolution has occurred, and it has always been man’s role to, having given due consideration to the best information available at the time, provide it freely in moments of need?
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