fullness
smell of eaten pie:
our dinner table rocked with
sweet flatulence.
pastimes
her sewing was for
avoidance. the real art
of maternity.
office space
dad's desk needed dust.
spiders built webbed temples on
his marks of success.
backporching
blueberry breeze on
my sandpaper tongue. one foot
was surely longer.
feminism
silent elderly
microwave. nada save her
stovetop miracles.
