SUSIE'S DREAM.

[dadio]

Susie would rather be back in bed with
Polly than scrubbing pots for Mrs Gripe
In the kitchen with her constant nagging

And the odd cuff of her hand. She looks out
Of the small window of the kitchen that
Shows part of the gardens of the huge house.

The tall trees sway, birds take flight, she hears the
Banging of pots and pans on the black stove
As Mrs Gripe rushes about cursing,

Sweating and swearing. Susie remembers
Holding close to Polly in the cold night,
Clasping her hands around the other maid’s

Stomach to keep out the attic’s chill, to
Keep warm, keep near. She wonders if Master
George will return home today from the Front.

Last time he was home Polly would wander
Off to his bed at night leaving her all
Alone to the chill and the dark and the

Occasional spider. She’s told her she’ll
Be out in the streets if she’s found out or
Gets herself with kid. But she won’t listen.

Susie pushes the hard brush around the
Inside of the huge pot, feels hot, sweat on
Her brow. She looks over her shoulder at

Mrs Gripe’s wide back and big arse as she
Leans over the pot on the stove, her voice
Bellowing like some poor cow in labour.

She turns back to the job at hand and the
Sight of birds in flight and a dull sky and
Windy day. She imagines Polly’s arms

Tight round her waist, kissing her naked neck,
Whispering love words. She won’t of course,
She’d rather be shafted in George’s bed,

But Susie can pretend what she likes in
Her young maid’s fragile heart and fertile head.

[WIREMAN]

real cool dadio...cinderella susie

[dadio]

thank you for reading, Wireman.