Saturday, July 30, 2016

Baked in the ovens at Victoria’s Secret

It was a short passage of time
And too much of it misspent in wanderings,
Administered poorly it seemed,
Passively spent
And fearfully squandered.
And now more often than not
In full blown retreat
He looked for a savior.
And for a brief moment or two
Mostly at the suggestion of others,
The well-intended
As well as the institutional sages,
It was suggested that he’d find his savior
While brushing his teeth…
What a burden to bear.
Clearly this was false hope
He construed
As his redeemer
The one who would guide and comfort
The one who would lift the load
Didn’t look like that at all,
At all.
She needed to be slightly saintly
A servile savant
And a recapitulant,
A babe, bold of the garden
A righteous earth mama
A Babylon sister.
Now weary of being at point,
He wanted to pull over to the side of this road
And just yield,
And to lose this long hauled load
And replace it with a warm womanly cookie
Baked in the ovens at Victoria’s Secret.






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