Holiday on the Farm
The soap opera organ announces
what we can hardly bear to hear.
A metal-aproned matron
summons the skin ribbons
she left on the seat of a Galaxy 500,
circa 1969. Her tremolo
is a casual torture. We mistake
her voice for a choir of a thousand
veiled mothers and wobble dutifully in
to an Easter dinner of wood duck and greens.
There are no roses
around [...]
