By Ian Duhig
I will be faithful to you, I do vow,
but not until the seas have all run dry
et cetera. Although I mean it now,
I'm not a prophet and I will not lie.
To be your perfect wife, I could not swear;
I'll love, yes; honour (maybe); won't obey,
but will co-operate if you will care
as much as you are seeming to today.
I'll do my best to be your better half,
but I don't have the patience of a saint
and at you, not with you, I'll sometimes laugh,
and snap too, though I'll try to learn restraint.
We might work out. No blame if we do not.
With all my heart, I think it's worth a shot.
From Ian Duhig’s The Blind Road-Maker, one of the five Picador poetry collections nominated for The T. S. Eliot Prize for Poetry 2016.
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