The Press
with their midnight rants of
                                       Timesnewroman
can I have one please mr. Postman? holds true
      men with soupdeprivedminds starving for sexandsome
                                                                                    and women
      with their tightly wound kerchiefs and insatiable fingers
and
      mothers’ with
      their elaborate threeringtestimonies
                                                         chimerical
                                                         in all but Blake-light
tragedies
             loom within it edifice
                                          awaiting the transposition of
happiness, now