Duty (Poetry)

(After Philip Larkin’s TOADS)

I don’t care much for the word ‘duty’
it forbids in short form —
no fun and dulls beauty
so it’s best quickly done

I resent it landing squarely
tight as a yoke
when conscience has me wear it
teeth clenched at the joke

There’s others that shirk it
and avoid like the plague
exactly how they work it
get excused — leave the stage

is a skill I’ve not mastered
guilt casts me ‘the fool’
when my name’s on the rosta
I comply (as a rule)

Just once let me play hooky
skive off — disappear
and should they come looking
I would be rather pleased to hear

them exclaim ‘Well, that’s unusual —
she’s the reliable sort
and we’ve had no refusal
so we naturally thought ...’

Oh, it’s true they take me for granted
while too quietly I moan
small thanks overrated —
mere crumbs I am thrown

And my worst enemy is me
when my first instinct fails
to protest — act rebelliously
but then duty prevails

All my own fault I’m stuck indoors
not having fun
if I had any sense I’d say ‘Fuck the chores —
this woman’s work is done!’