Marisa Bevington and
KJ Hannah Greenberg

Marisa Bevington

Into the Bargain
By KJ Hannah Greenberg

I’ve got to ignore some spates of stupidity. It’ realistic to think grownups
Should interact frequently with tykes, even if kids spasm with heightened,
Emotional outpourings. Yet, into the bargain, I feel disparaged, alienated.

When anything unexpected happenings, it’s not only offspring or partners
Who manipulate, via ataxic covenants, moreover, try to hoard my favorite
Wapiti crura, concurrently oppose instances of “disproportionate” power.

Rather, by sleds & snowshoes, my beloveds actualize all manner of
Tawdry resentments, even effort to scream as viagros, when pulling
My carefully collected victuals off shelves, plus out from the freezer.

Among the events I’ve encountered in lived decades, nothing is as vile
As that display of enthusiastically espoused protest bechanced since I
Burned the fish, left the trash for bears, otherwise got tipsy at midday.

Forever a “good mama,” I was not wroth with kin, just perturbed per a mess
They added to mine. Hopefully, going forward, my loving will persist as more
Visible, more endowed, more generous than my gin-fueled absentmindedness.
Anyway, while they’re still stomping and noising, I’m once more bombinating,
Appreciating that my imported withies might not bind hearts, and successfully
Lash familial assignations to my days. Our abetting’s impossible shorn of love.


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