Monday, October 26, 2015

Keats' Ode to Autumn for Suburban Mothers

To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness! 
Close bosom-friend (considering a breast lift) of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless 
Jo-Ann Fabrics with no-sew Halloween costumes that are E-Z

To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells 
(What are you menu-planning For Thanksgiving?)
With a sweet kernel (zesty corn bread, maybe?) 

To set budding more,
And still more, coupons for 5% off at the Target pharmacy -- 
Where you get your prescription(s) filled.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store 
Of New England college guides? With the Yale pages dog-eared.

Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor (or the kitchen floor) 
with a splitting migraine.

Reading The Atlantic with patient look, 
Thou watches the last oozing hours by hours

Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where is lacrosse?
But really, how many of these kids will play professional sports
As a career? 

Think not of them, thou hast thy music too, --
You are still what the 19th century would call a handsome woman
Though you have nasolabial folds, there is Botox for that
And the deep-set wrinkles on your forehead between your eyes.

Full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn
Or is that you yelling:  The kids' can pack their own damn Backpacks!

Hedge-crickets sing -- reminding you 
You should call the exterminator, and while you're at it, 
The gutters need their pre-winter cleaning too.

The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies
And you Tweet the Apple Blossom recipe meme 
With the hashtag #Middleage #Carbovore.

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