poetry 2017 / 041

The Single Life

I took his life on Tuesday afternoon

on an odd day off from working at the DSS

(where they were pretty cruel to me, I must say)

and a brief but expensive trip to London.

He was willing to go, it was a mutual desire –

we'd been together long enough

that one of us had to go

or face the threat of insanity

or suicide by eighteen wheeler on the M1

(and who'd want to clean that mess?)

A single pill to do the deed

washed down with a glass of wine.

I'd like to say it was a good wine

but it was barely mediocre, a lot

like his life, once his partner had left him

and taken his two beloved dogs.

He was happy to die, and wished me well.