My Mother's Husband

He was a small squat man
with a large bald head
leaned permanently
to the left,
as though he always
looked askance.

He smelled of body odour,
stale smoke and
was marked by yellowed
upper lip
where nicotine
had stained his skin, as he
continually held
the ever-present cigarette
between his lips,
both thin and wet.
And when he smiled
(which was rare)
his rotten teeth
would turn the strongest
stomach sour.

Around the house
he wore a cap:
greasy, flat;
in oily overalls he’d tut
and sigh
if anyone got in his way.
He never thought to say “excuse me,”
but mumbled and grumbled
through each day
and treated life just like a chore.
He didn’t treat my mother though,
not to a night at the pictures
or a box of Black Magic
(they were her favourites)
When she died, he cried
rather a lot.

Six months later he had a smart new suit,
false teeth, a wig,
and fancy shoes!
And then,
he took up ballroom dancing again…