The Regretful Academic: Poetry Exercise #3

I sit across from you in the dining room

You’ve given us so much,


Lighting the lovely lines lying

across your own face,


I whine for nor want no weak role in it.

I am ultimately unfulfilled.



I married you because it was normal.

My mother married you,


Her mother married you,

Her mother’s mother married you,


And so on.


How else am I to scrape out a living in this world?

Office occupancy?


Collegiate worth?



Powerless, yet not sexless

God save me, my children, and our souls.




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