Postfemnism

He calls her, "Freckled Fannie," and she winces.
It's a dreadful name, but she still tightly holds his
Hand.  He wanted her to change her hair, become
A blonde.  She quickly did.  He isn't fond of cats,
So she has given up her Isadore.  There is, she knows,
A single means of moving from this hopeless place,
Her overbearing family, and poverty.  She sees
It's him, so she hangs on, and rushes to him when
She hears that name.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 28 times
Written on 2024-04-24 at 16:26

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text