they all asked her 
what she was doing,
Aunt Mary asked her 
after the first time 
he didn’t come home,
she’d sat up all night
watching re-runs 
of Dallas & 10 minute
infomercials, waiting
for the phone to ring
or a knock at the door
and the sad eyes 
of a police constable,
but when neither came
she took herself to bed
awoke to the warmth
of a spooning mass,
they all asked her
what she was doing, 
her friend Dora 
(short for Pandora)
asked her straight
“what the fuck yer
 doing with a low-life
 like Brian Gamble?”
and in a silent moment
of contemplation
she conjured a belter
of an answer…
“Dora, he fucks 
 like gazelle on phet,
 doesn’t snore 
 or complain 
 about my cooking,
 he’s pretty much 
 (aside from the tattoos)