Divorce

I did not promise

to stay with you till death us do part, or

anything like that,

so part I must, and quickly. There are things

I cannot suffer

any longer: Mother, you have never, ever said

a kind word

or a thank you for all the tedious chores I have done;

Father, your breath

smells like a camel's and gives me the hump;

all you ever say is:

"Are you off in the cream puff, Lady Muck?"

in this day and age?

I would be better off in an orphanage.

I want a divorce.

There are parents in the world whose faces turn

up to the light

who speak in a soft murmur of rivers

and never shout.

There are parents who stroke their children's cheeks

in the dead night

and sing in the colourful voices of rainbows,

red to blue.

These parents are not you. I never chose you.

You are rough and wild,

I don't want to be your child. All you do is shout

and that's not right.

I will file for divorce in the morning at first light.

By

Jackie Kay