the neighborhood cul de sac
boutique shine and brill
aprons glossy make up fresh
junk food swarms and clings in the stomach
a fatty piece of meat gets separated
with a long sharp knife
and all your dreams
and feelings of love come true
and all the inconveniences
we will sweep them under the rug
and stomp them down in anguish
when no one's looking
candy cane colored stalls
at the end of this sweet cul de sac
where civilized families have arrived
polishing the panels and screens as if life depended
cause you know what it really does
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