Betty Crocker Can Shove It
I sealed the mold
filled with liquid you
with a simple meeting by the pond
placed behind the loudest kettle
I simmered jealousy and bubbled disappointment
where’s the recipe card for second place?
a full year later
the egg timer sounds in bitter celebration
I’ve lost your independent freckles and your crooked teeth
he is the mold and you have been molded
and I am lost among the side dishes
on the dinner table of relationships
-twilight.10.2.07
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Poetry, Music, and the Arts all chillin out and having a good time under one roof :-)
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