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
#Willthissoccergameeverend? 

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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