You think more 
of Mr Eddington 
her father said 
than almost 
anything else 
and she knew she did  
but her father drew the line 
at her having him in her bed 
and her mother 
wasn't so keen either 
I don't want cat's hairs
on the pillowcases 
or on those sheets 
or blankets 
and so Mr Eddington 
had to stay out 
of her bed 
and be content 
to sit by the window 
or on the window ledge 
or on the small carpet 
by the chest of drawers 
and don't feed 
the darn cat 
at the table 
her father said 
it isn't polite 
to have cat's spittle 
on your hands 
while eating 
and so she sat 
on the chair 
with one foot 
on the stool 
in that 
I don't give 
a damn pose 
and Mr Eddington 
sat himself 
comfortably 
by the stool 
and she sang him 
one of those 
Rock and Roll songs 
she liked or recited 
an Ezra Pound poem 
which her father disliked 
or she put her hands 
behind her head 
and whistled part 
of an Elvis Presley song 
 which her mother said 
wasn't ladylike at all 
and to sit like that 
her father said 
with your leg up 
with underclothes showing 
is just not on at all 
now sit like a lady 
would sit 
he said 
and there were times 
Jezebel thought 
she wished them 
both dead 
so long as Mr Eddington 
was there 
she just didn't care.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem