The children she cries for! Is it not better
to remain part of the cycle? We reach for the
bitterness of the test, for the result. Joy!
Joy! I'm eating, I'm eating. (Then stop
eating!) She'd roll over and shave
her legs, the witch behind every wisteria.
And Rick, Joe, Bob, Don, Dave,
what of them? Joanne? Her perfume sample?
Here, I am Aunt Lynette, my mother now
gone to where they put the infirm, the
women too old to breed. Say?
Say? She is the lizard out on the lanai.
You know the shame: how they and the minks
serve men and now we serve them. I figured
this is life and went back to my meatballs.