Chardonnay Bottles, Pink Swarovski Clip-Ons, and Dory Previn On the 8-Track
Suburban marriage is a Ponzi scheme,
Tract house deductible--
Cape-Cod Cobalt subsidies plaster Adirondack Lawn-chairs and cul-de-sac kids;
The coiled hand ties of Plastic Inertia, Tupperware,
Doric Columns are the threshold to our Über-American
2:00am; the D.A.'s voice is like Gaza in my ear. It's the evening of my sweet sixteen
And the dawning of my father's indictment.
Tonight my mother is a mermaid.
Pink Swarovski Clip-Ons,
Dory Previn on the 8-Track.
My mother backstrokes nude in our fiberglass pool.
This, is the lazy insurrection of a beauty queen.
2:00pm; I'm twenty-three.
"Dad, what of marriage?"
"That bitch is sittin' on all our money over at UBS."
My father does not know.
She hasn't touched the account.
Her brain is wet
I drive over to her apartment twice a week
And comb her golden hair.