Homemakers, Homeworkers, Homewreckers

They all gather here 
the three types 
rifiling through briefcases 
ruffling feathers 
Ladies with their ambitions
to be the best in their category 
the makers know the wreckers 
know their smell and taste
remembered from his shirt collar 
this is the hub 
for the whores and the wives and the maids 
they flock to the watering hole 
to gawk at each other 
the workers are quiet in their observations 
like me they hide behind screens 
pretending not to see
she gestures with her foot 
through the glass 
to the pastery she wants 
a blonde maker 
he pays for her gesture 
the wrecker bites her nails nervously 
the worker types away 

◄ Summer Meeting

Fallen ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message