Every morning,
Bare-legged and lithe Lolitas,
Bobbing, rosy-cheeked,
In a briny inland sea of women in Valium.
Jeremy and Jessica,
Childish bondage in the back of the Volvo;
Watching ahead, no thoughts of prep, the practiced mind at twelve and ten.
Mother behind the air bag, ready to explode;
Enveloped in a mist of comfort, driving down the road.
Lithe Lolitas pushing boys,
Bending at the hip, restraining bicycles;
Muddy calves and whiplash mouths.
