I dreamt of lemon mousse tarts, Lucille Ball
And sweet-hearted redheads, girls I once called friends.
With my warrants paid, I’m finally free and
Pleased to go home in my black velvet dress,
Back to 1996 and memories.
Modern women argue with our dental insurance and volunteer
For Wisconsin nonprofits, shunning prophets-for-profits.
We take care of things, realising
Flooding facebook with chain letters is no kind of protest.
Us witches craft signs and flaunt ourselves out on the lawn
In front of white government buildings.
So here’s to you, Mrs. Robinson. You live in an unforgiving place.
Drink wine to forget all the pain, all the laughing.
They fluff your dress, fix your lipgloss,
And as you get sloshed they choose a jukebox tune
You never wanted to listen to.
Later, coherent but cranky, you ask for coffee.
I broadcast my problems on social media,
Seven black and white photos of my life.
The internet explodes my brain with the powers that be.
I pretend this day doesn’t exist.
My little sister ain’t little no more. She’s already learning
What it means to be.
Stop by and keep me busy.
Kick me while I’m on the ground already.
How could you ever want to date me?
When I met you, you asked me not to
Go into labor during your anti-bullying presentation.
It just didn’t – feel right
But I guess you’re not a little boy anymore.
I hope for my future daughter’s looks,
She should be beautiful and therefore respected
Able to hold her own at only eight weeks old.
For now, I’ll hide in my pillow pile until tomorrow
Wondering when and if my thoughts will ever be complete.
Note: This is a Facebook Poem – think magnetic poetry with social media. Of course, I mold and shape it to fit my purpose but the original inspiration is my friends’ status posts from October 21, 2017.