Excited to have met a man finally;
Mentored by older men. Women buy
Oil, fry sliced vegetables in a pan,
Throwing out rotten meat. The onions cry
“Stock market,” throw us in the stock, woman’s
Imperative for dinner, it’s do or die,
Omission of faults, not really seeing
Notes on magic. I’ve forgotten how to fly.
Apiece, one apiece she says, doling out.
Throwing off her cloak she hangs it up, sly.
Oil change for her car, sly as a fox, she
Excites him asking him Taps, God is nigh
Mentioning nothing, she is frantically
Offal, just the product of harvests. Pry.
Tighten. Pineapple Juice in its tin can.
Subcommittees await the verdict, apply
Infantile tactics to proprietors.
Orchids wait in their regal aisle next to rye.
Nimble store clerks sample the toast and cheese.
Admittance to the theatre shall never go awry.
Repairmen come to fix gadgets or cabinets.
Enacting new policies, the old yet spry.
Enamel is rebuilt for continuance;
Muttering under her breath, a shapely thigh
Prerogatives the starlit infantry,
Infantry of peripatetic fairies, sky
Repatriated by callous clouds.
Inferiority complexes made shy,
Crackles the television like a fire,
Ordained evening heat for which I comply…