We should call a man

The bonnet of our Punto is propped up
with a wooden spoon
bits of the engine are scattered over the front garden
like children’s toys
and I look at you, your arms folded, and say
“We need to get a man in.”

I have a set of screwdrivers in our shed
like an acoustic guitar in perfect tune
but never played.
An electric drill, sander, hedge trimmer
boxed up like a B&Q warehouse.

If the conservatory door keeps jamming
if the boiler starts banging
we need to get a man in
if the bathroom needs tiling
the fuse box needs rewiring
we need to get a man in
if our coffee table needs French polishing
an interior wall needs demolishing
we need to get a man in.

The stubs in my cheque book
read man
man
man
man.
He is in there now
trying to install a wireless connection in our front room.
He has got his head in his hands,
suddenly we are equal.