Ataraxia

Petticoats, pinafores

Children at the hip

Smiling like a waxwork

Behind pink velvet lips

Take the trash out, scrub the front porch

As the neighbours wave hello

Gazing up at birds in flight

So wild, so high, so slow

Be a nightly Aphrodite

In a silky, see-through dress

Lover, mother, saviour, filler

Of the hopeless emptiness

Hand in hand, we're paper dolls

Picketing the fence

Arms around suburbia

Preserving the pretence

Lobotomies in little pills

Hazy, warm relief

Keep us at the surface

Of our glaciers of grief

Hear the gas stove calling

Dance my fingers through the flames

Hypnotising, hurting

Flirting with the pain

Petticoats and golden curls

Sedated in the sun

Smiling up at birds in flight

Lock, load, raise the gun

Hold my breath, in mourning

For everything but me

Shoot them down, one by one

Just because they're free