ad oblivion, ad nauseum

lusts long kept at bay
shrivel in the silent sigh
of laurels leaving

   "Don't cut your hair,"
    you say smiling,
   "I like it long,"
    open a nickel bag
    and crawl into oblivion.

you leave me alone
to weep, unnoticed 'til all
the nickels are gone

   "Don't leave me,"
    you say crying,
   "I'll try harder,"
    and trade one kind
    of oblivion for another.

bitter irony
hands me the nails I use to
crucify myself

   "Don't be a martyr,"
    you say, frowning,
   "no one is listening,"
    turn up the volume
    on the tv

sheer futility
helps me get down from the cross
tends my bleeding wounds

   "Oh, you're back,"
    you say, staring blankly,
   "get me another beer,"
    pick up the remote and
    punch oblivion recall.

I don't know how to
leave, frozen in the shadow
of your leaden form

© Carrie Berry

Commentary:

This poem is a tongue in cheek treatment of a serious subject, the breakdown of communication in a long term relationship. "Gallows humour" is one way of dealing with life's painful realities. In this case, I have indented the stanzas of the second voice, to emphasis the separateness of the "non-dialogue." Her stanzas are written in the form of a 17 syllable haiku, but that is where the similarity ends. His stanzas, while more casual, or conversational, still maintain a certain form, indicating that both know their roles well. The deliberately "poetic" devices such as alliteration:

show us some one who has rehearsed the lines of her martyrdom "ad nauseum," and is perhaps enjoying it a bit too much. You can see her staring at herself in the mirror, remembering how he once responded to her still long hair, as she "remembers" the figurative laurel wreath. Note that he is picking up on these subtle moves, but choosing to "tune them out" in much the way that she has become comfortable in her role as victim, "frozen in (his) shadow."