Veneer Poem by Donna Dolorical
Veneer
Her own madding crowd consists of two
Far from it is where she needs to be
But that simply will not do
For the daughter is no longer
And in her stead is a black hole
Unto which is said things never before uttered
Things that would otherwise consume a mother
Who, likewise, is no longer just a mother
Because, the black hole now finds,
The august father was only ever a father
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/16/2024 2:18:15 PM # 1.0.0.1119
