On the corner of North and Brighton,

A worn white winter cap

Pulled down over her

Steel-wool hair

In the blurry August heat

Sits Miz Caroline Perch.

A downtrodden, derelict drain on modern society,

Miz Caroline buried her husband in one war

And both her sons in another,

Her life’s purpose lost in defense of a country

Who, in repayment, selflessly relieved her of the responsibility

Of caring for her own home,

Relieved her of those pesky possessions such as

crystal wine glasses and a chest of hopes

Providing her, instead, with

a synthetic plastic BIG GULP cup

and hope in her chest.

-

She carries her life with her in a plastic Hefty bag:

A broken umbrella, a mildew scented sweater,

A torn photo of her family,

All of this she leaves each morning

Tucked safely in the doorway of The Garden

Out in the open,

without lock or alarm

while she wanders into the park for the afternoon.

-

Elizabeth Sterling is a modern lady,

Her Blackberry Bluetooth a permanent fixture in her ear,

She converses with her best girlfriend

About the trials and tribulations of

Being a kept woman

While her husband is out of town.

She is a walking Coach advertisement,

The C’s on her earrings matching the

C’s on her purse matching the

C’s on her toes contrasting with

everything she does not

See:

She clutches her purse a little tighter

When passing Miz Caroline in the park;

She walks a little faster

Past the teenagers on the corner;

She is relieved as when she

Spots her 2008 Audi RS 4,

The button on her keybob at the ready

To beep off the car alarm system

And click open the doors.

-

Driving into her gated driveway

She pulls up to her trendy half mansion

On the sunny side of Shadyside.

Turning the key in the deadbolt,

She presses the seven digits to disable the alarm,

Gives her precious pincher a pat,

And locks herself into the

Silent, echoing home.