It's lunchtime
and he's training the dog again.
He says to the dog in a cross voice,
‘Stay there.'
The dog obeys him.
When he goes home
he forgets to leave the cross voice
in the green where he trains his dog
and spits out the unwoven troubles
that won't fit in his head.
He says to his wife,
‘Stay there.'
His wife obeys him.
She sees how good he is with the dog
and how the dog obeys his cross voice.
She boasts to the locals,
‘I would never be afraid of burglars
with my husband in the house.'
The locals, busting for news, ask her,
‘Why would you never be afraid of burglars
with your husband in the house?'
She calls a meeting at Eyre Square
for half three that Saturday.
Standing on a chair, wiping her hands
on her apron, she explains.
‘One day,' she says, in a cross voice,
‘The dog disobeyed my husband
and my husband beat him across the head
with a whip made from horse hair.
That is why I am not afraid of burglars
with my husband in the house.'