I.

Joy is for my girls.

Not joy shaded by contours

of suffering the sun needs

no darkness to make it brighter

But Joy

Pink powdered perfectly

Dusted confectionate Joy

Sparkles everywhere sparkles

never seen again

Shimmering frilly frothy lace

Frivolous and petty kind of

Joy

Joy never worth writing about

Joy slipped between giggles

And gossip and petticoats

And petite finger sandwiches II.

Joy impish like the vapor of my girls rage for joy.

Tea dissipating into perfumed airs silly silly stupid rage and her

Grosgrain taffeta chiffon tears betray her with each wavering

breath scream and scream and scream

Cheeky pecks and blown kisses

worthless joy Rage

shallow granular fleeting freeing apologetic trembling and yoked

Silly silly stupid Joy useless destructive rage

fuze lit and tick tick ticking

a bomb no one fears

but her it thuds syncopating

to hoofbeats below her navel kind of

rage

Rage like a river

that will never stop flowing

to fill a silence whose thirst

thirst will never be quenched

why is she screaming and crying

grow up you dumb bitch

fury tearing her throat like

flotsam jetsam her diaphragm

lips hollow and silence speaks into

her. worthless rage

slaughters joy like joy savors

silly silly stupid rage.