Take that Truthseeker!
Housewife Envy
by me.
You’ve put on a high swinging act,
Festooning your arms across a pallid chest,
Ironing me in, keying me out.
You’ve built a home-scratch lifeware,
Perfect for tossing and flavoring,
Enshrining my absence in a seasoned cavity.
You’ve boiled, strong and mighty
baked potatoes for the typically gerrazienne types.
Mashed and mixed, lumped together like dead hogs,
In the crook of the absence of our two vanishing souls.
See, Margaret, you’ve finally done it:
Bleached your life blonder than purest white,
a shade apt to be studied by God, and
the prime contender
for the home-game prize.
Blistering like the eyes of a worn-out ripcord,
See, Margaret, your suburban suicide pills
“Pink and yellow, striped and delicious”
Dissolve in many more stomachs than yours.
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