I wish I could say I loved us
Is a terrible way to begin
A poem designed
To honor our memories
Of family life from within
With bleached puritanical lore
Paving the way
To some glorious day
When Antichrist and Y2K hype
Hold hands down its yellow brick road
But the actual truth is half as exciting
As hang-gliding, biking, skiing, or hiking
Into the forest of wild speculation
Where beasts of ex-husbands
Preyed on one victim
And chased into hiding
Where no one was looking
And no one could find out
Miss Durden’s new hangout
Secluded in north Aberdeen
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