| by Marita Dachsel
You were doomed from the beginning.
Your son, at five, is smarter than you.
Pink and gold is an awful combination.
Your husband, Mrs. Torrance, your husband
has anger-management issues, and surely
you are already aware that temperance
isn’t working well for him:
he will sell his soul for a drink.
Send him up to the mountains
with a case of bourbon and his precious
typewriter, ship your son to grandma’s.
Treat yourself to a haircut and a new dress,
you need to go dancing, where you can
flail under the sharp-edged disco lights.
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