What would he do if she fed him the same meal

One protested against, eaten sullenly,

Pablum, gruel, synthetic, colorless?

A homemaker turned robotic, inert,

Nothing chosen to awaken his pining pallet,

Nothing prepared to satisfy appetite.

What would he do if she wore the same dress

Garish green to hurt his fragile eyes

Horizontal stripes to flout a figure disproportionate?

This good-looking woman restyled as a frog.

Nothing there to stimulate his lagging loins,

Nothing left to satisfy desire.

What would he do if she laughed the same laugh

Talking like a teen, all giggles and slang

A vocabulary an ape could render through signs?

An intelligent partner shifted to a shrugged-off shell.

Nothing there to stimulate the intellect,

Nothing left to satisfy the soul.

What would he do if she gave it all up

Chose a new course, embarked quite mapless,

Walking away into the darkness that drew her?

Found freedom from boundaries and guilt and anger.

Nothing with power to tie her to home

Seeking some measure to fill the emptiness.