3/30

Mascot

I pack my shelves with priestesses:
the Utz girl, the Sun maid,
the Ojibwa princess kneeling beside
the Land of Lakes. Unblemished,
arms strained with offering,
halftone blush in the smile
of service. How vain and convinced
I am, to consider myself their god

and not one more nameless consumer.
Only the Morton's girl betrays the illusion,
huddlng for shelter from her maker's storm,
selling the difference between rain and tears.