Double-Clutched Poem by Louise Tredoux

Did everything Juliette told me to do,
got embroidery of a Vermeer or someone,
a lady staring into the distance to keep my
mind and hands occupied, tried to fix the
new iron myself, putting right colour
wires supposedly in the right place

Driving the ancient Landrover into town,
we have a flat tyre, try to change it myself,
fail dismally, bloody thing was too heavy,
jack must be ancient, from before World War One,
two handsome guys help me, Juliette disapproved
vehemently, then Rudi called from whatever port

I cried, strictly forbidden Juliette had said;
he asked how I was, replied I actually enjoyed
the electrical shock when I wired the steam iron
wrong, he was quiet for a while, I thought
maybe Juliette was right, maybe he wanted me to
be more independent, he asked what I had done

told him – proudly – about driving the Landrover,
mastering the double clutch and difficult steering
after all the model was 1961, then the break-down
and getting the tyre changed, Rudi was quiet
on the other side, worried I hastily explained
I did all in a bid to become more independent

then he could go off on his boat trips with
more confidence, silence continued, I explained
Juliette gave me tips so he could go off without
worrying about me; he drily commented he was
more worried than he had ever been before,
he did not want me to mess with electicity

The Landrover was an experiment not meant for
me, as for embroidery, he knew I only ever
did it to keep interfering old women away –
not impressed, wanted to know how much I had written,
any new theories; I sobbed loudly, I have several
but thought he wouldn’t be interested

Just keep those theories at the ready he says - STOP
messing with electricity and ancient Landrovers,
if such things made Juliette happy, it’s their affair,
preferred the impractical Louise he knew, I sobbed
even more, so glad I need never wire an iron
or drive a double-clutched Landrover again...