Room 102

Give me a boring man,
the type who pays his bills on time
and has a section in his wardrobe
just for his shoes.

Tell him to tsk-tsk ever so gently
when I've refilled my wine glass
just often enough to get a little rambunctous
and make sure he is always on time.

Give me a man whose smile is for
ease of expression only
and knows how to play an instrument
but never does.

I will exchange him for my sleepless nights
and vase-splattered walls. I will always know
what he is going to do. And so will he.

Give me the man
with a hanshake like an over-ripe banana
and the same polo shirt
in six different colours
(none of them red or purple) .

Yes, give me a boring man,
and when I'm flat on my back
every Tuesday evening at 9: 45 precisely,
I can stare at his perfectly artexed ceiling
and smile at the thought that up till now,
it really hasn't been so bad.

Anna Russell