Being nude was rude

A little crumb here and there he picked up
wherever he found hope. He swore to cope,
not getting under heaps of rotting luck,
or being sucked into the vacuum
of black despair. Still he showed defiance.
Yet his wife ruled his life. Her alliance
to order as its paragon had soon appeared
from early on.All desire was banned.
Playing with fire could get out of hand,
she feared any approach like a cockroach
that she would have to kill. Still he felt bound
to his vows,looking for firm ground. All she saw
was holy matrimony, daily blessings at church,
cook soup for the homeless, sing in the choir,
shop with the old, but for him no to touch.
no crap in the bathroom and not much noise
with it and only wearing pyjamas.
Being nude was rude. No bare statues, none
of any exposed part, no fleshy art
or erotic pictures on the wall. All doom and gloom
a latent chill filled every room of the house.

With her bitter broom she swept, killed any mouse,
got rid of odours. All germs together with his lust,
were swept firmly under the carpet
where they lay cringing, unwilling to mingle
within the ever increasing dust.