CHECKLIST

By Deirdre Devally

Before I proclaim my love to the daughter,

I insist on meeting the Mother.

read over my list, titled; The One.

I inspect Mother’s demeanour, initial greeting, consider

the inflection in her greeting. Monitor her reaction

as I gift her roses, tied with a virgin-white ribbon,

Lindt chocolates wrapped to perfection.

As she guides me to the sofa, I scrutinise her figure,

note she’s substantially larger than my lover. 

Throughout the evening, frequent trips

to the bathroom permit observations in the tiny notebook

in my inside pocket. Tick – speech with vulgarity. Yes/No?

How much cleavage is she revealing? One to ten.

Can she cook? Is her house pristine?

Does her laugh grate like chalk on a blackboard?

Verbal ticks are a deal-breaker. Sentences ending

‘and whatnot,’ starting with ‘so,’ like cloned,

Americanized youth, could be cute for a day

but could incite me (once more) to murder.

My beloved sits by me at dinner.

Potential Mother-in-law separates the food on her plate,

stabs her rare, fillet steak. I salivate as blood escapes,

colours the mashed potatoes my favourite shade of pink.

She sits with elbows on the table, laughs

raucously at her own inappropriate jokes,

while my pen, digging into my chest,

scores my dream of – this time, a happy ending.

My girlfriend’s scream is shrill like her Mothers.

Steak-knife cleaned, I bind them together.

Checklist complete. Plenty more on Tinder.

And later, at home taking daily inventory, I write:

I’m improving each time in my judgment of character.

#darkpoetsclub #shortlist