"The Breakfast Table" by Norman Rockwell‘The Wife’s Lament’ by Joseph S. Salemi The Society February 14, 2021 Humor, Love Poems, Poetry 11 Comments . For my friend Rose R., with sincere condolences. Good Lord, imagine my bad luck: I’m married to a hockey puck. I don’t know how it came about— A lover morphed into a lout! You’re a widow, not a wife, When hockey is your husband’s life. In his world, only one thing’s holy: To get hard rubber past a goalie. He’s in a bar or at the rink Explaining why the Rangers stink, And when at last he gets back here, Awash in stats and lager beer, He won’t help out with household chores But only thinks of hockey scores, And sits down in his easy chair To face the TV set and stare In unrelenting rapt attention. If I so much as try to mention Some other subject, he’s enraged, And screams, “Not now! I am engaged!” Alas, I can remember when He had a different kind of yen. In those days, when he thought of “scoring” It was with me, and we went soaring Up orgasmic heights of bliss. Now? Forget it—he won’t miss A sports report or single play. I lie there in my lingerie Drenched in scent and looking hot. Does he notice? He does not. I recall some torrid nights When he and I turned down the lights. The steam that rose up from our sheets Would rival Casanova’s heats. He didn’t think of ice or skates When we were on those early dates. He played a different kind of game With me, his one and only dame. He wielded something hard and thick, And I don’t mean a hockey stick. . . Joseph S. Salemi has published five books of poetry, and his poems, translations and scholarly articles have appeared in over one hundred publications world-wide. He is the editor of the literary magazine Trinacria and writes for Expansive Poetry On-line. He teaches in the Department of Humanities at New York University and in the Department of Classical Languages at Hunter College. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. NOTE TO POETS: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who disrespects you. Simply send an email to email@example.com. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society. Please see our Comments Policy here. CODEC News:Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Click to print (Opens in new window)Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window)Click to share on WhatsApp (Opens in new window)Click to email this to a friend (Opens in new window)Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) 11 Responses Panagiota Romios February 14, 2021 What a humorous pen for Valentine’s Day! Alas, poor Rose! I could feel her frustration. And~ languishing for a torrid past. Your humor is outstanding. Those last two lines, marvelously, earthy, to put it mildly, Will share with others. A delight! Reply Chantelle Anne Cooke February 14, 2021 Beautiful! Reply Paul Freeman February 14, 2021 Classic! Reply Margaret Coats February 14, 2021 Elegiac! Heht mec mon wunian on wuda bearwe, under actreo in tham eorthscraefe. From the Old English Wife’s Lament, where the man sends his woman to dwell in eorthscraefe, a cave or grave. Reply Joseph S. Salemi February 14, 2021 Well, Margaret, I hope that my poem isn’t as lugubrious as that Anglo-Saxon lament! Reply Margaret Coats February 14, 2021 Quite different in tone, but the dramatic situation has clear parallels. You put the mournfulness in the first half of the poem and recall prior bliss in the last, whereas the Anglo-Saxon woman brings in a happy line or two every now and then in her mostly woeful composition. Your speaker seems to be as hopeless as she, but you found a way to keep up the readers’ spirits. C.B. Anderson February 14, 2021 I have found, Joseph, that many hockey lovers love little else. For most American men, however, the prepossessing object of their love is football. Fortunately, my wife also enjoys (or appears to enjoy) that rough-and-tumble contact sport, especially when our local New England team is in the mix. Now that Tom Brady has defected, things might change. For her at least. I admit it: I like watching football, because it is closest thing we have to the Roman games (except, perhaps, for MMA events). The illustration at the top is perfect! Reply Frank De Canio February 14, 2021 So now, Joseph, your protagonist went from hockey to baseball. At least he can get on base and come home with that sport. Wonderfully done! Reply Rob Crisell February 15, 2021 So good and so hilarious! Well done, professor. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant February 15, 2021 Joe S., ‘The Wife’s Lament’ is a highly entertaining poem that’s a masterclass in humorous poetry. The smooth flow of the language and the superb rhymes make it a treat to read aloud, and build perfectly to the cheeky punchline ~ but, you already know that. 😉 Thank you for my Valentine’s Day giggle! Reply David Watt February 17, 2021 Whether it’s a hockey stick, or a cricket bat equivalent here in Australia, your concluding couplet is a ripper. Thanks for the perfect rhymes and numerous laughs. Reply Leave a Reply to C.B. Anderson Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email. Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.