1
she can’t recall how she came to feel
so isolated, afraid –
her inability to understand, even
articulate her fears contributes
to the mounting dread she faces
after ten years and the birth of four children
she finds herself unwanted
her husband finds sexual release
in women who have never been pretty
not yet thirty and all ready MTV’s
current definition of beauty has
been excised from her dictionary forever
no amount of exercise will erase
the ravages of child birth
the wrinkled M formed across her
sagging abdomen makes the most
mundane moments of nudity uncomfortable
she yearns for the touch of another man
a man who understands her confusion
all the fear, loneliness, anxiety
she knows will disappear
if only she could find someone to
share her hopes, her desires
a man with an eye for the beauty that
can not be quelled by pregnancy
or crushed by disillusionment
2
I prefer the broken toys
the castaways
with severed thumbs and
snapped rubberband intestines
I’m interested in the
chipped paint exteriors
the warped limbs
and battered torsos
I build tiny
concentration camps in
my sliver of backyard
twig barracks nestled
in the mud, laced with
Black Cat explosives
adding further damage
to the tortured remains
of children’s playthings
3
we meet how couples meet
and I ask her where she’s
been my entire life and she
smiles and the smile melts
away the layers of turmoil
she’s almost beautiful
if you don’t look too closely
I don’t look too closely
she sees companionship and easy
evenings watching new rentals
all her questions answered
and her fears subsided
and I see burning gunpowder
twisted plastic and shattered twigs
in the backyard of our lives
deuce coupe 