Perfect Love?

a poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

He was the son of a preacher,
who had turned his back to his father’s church
and the corruption there.
In the slum part of our town
he met a beautiful girl
who could not read or write and never learned.
To his parents utter dismay he married her
and they resentfully left him out of their will.
The newlywed had nowhere to go
and continued to live in the slum,
in a little house that always looked as it was falling down
and he made a living collecting rubbish from rich peoples homes
and driving it to the dump out side town.
Twelve children they had,
but since the pair only had time for each other
their children were looking after themselves,
wild they were but not criminally so,
went on to become polite citizens,
living in square little boxes,
mowing their front lawns every Saturday.
In the evening the pair sat on an old sofa near, the kitchen fire
and when not holding hands
he was reading her the news
and later travel stories which she liked.
Gone very fat she had,
lost all her teeth and never seemed to be out of her nightdress.
He was cadaverously thin
wore a sagging black suit,
his only inheritance from his father.
Then he died in the bed
that had taken the brunt of their love
and she followed him six-month later.
Perfect love?
If so they must be angels now.