fifties housewife

what does she do down there
in her silk-lined box dressed
in the brown tailored suit
she wore when she married

no rings of course
they sawed those off handed them
discreetly to my dad
before they moved her out
into the hearse

maybe
she slips through her confines
more easily than she ever could
when she was alive
desperate sassy brilliance
buttoned up
in a shirtwaist dress
spilling out thwarted and crazy
 
perfectly miserable
in her hollow split-level dream
her empty nuclear plans

she stopped talking weeks
before she died
rolling away from our attentions

maybe she goes dancing
now when the honeyed moon is heavy
shoulders bare and pearly
under a mid-summer sky
men flocking her jealous heart
finally satisfied

maybe that’s her in my mirror
when I’m mad or haven’t had
enough sleep

may it be her
floating through the early hours
all the bonds undone

klm July 2004