To The Manor Born 👑👑
i am a beauty-junkie who grew up in an ugly
subpar-suburb where the only beauty for miles
was to be found:
in the ravine verdigris + crevace
at Bonnie Freedman’s house
oh +in my mother’s face
yet despite the Jag XK-E +263 dolls from her parent’s
world travels there was always sadness about Bonnie’s face
a peanut’s slash for a mouth later thru a windshield still a
fine-boned beauty slash that much deeper
i proudly wore her go go boots on a family pilgrimage to
father’s office at Woodbine Racetrack this nouveaux riche
burb a place of social climbers +backstabbers of ungainly
women in mou-mous +kitten heels
sending their daughters out into the world catty+petty
bourgeoisie while i toiled 5yrs in the library U of T
ditto Bonnie Sorbonne (17th century furniture)
these days Jewish geography is played by 70 yr olds
recounting my mis-deeds +high school haughty while
i remember a few names + rare acts of valour:
father’s jump
out of a moving car
to walk a blind man
across the street
this amidst the onslaught-er of envy that special sauce of
ungainly daughters everywhere especially the local b.j. queen
now a commercial lawyer married to an ex who must still have
the shriven penis of the syphlitic damned
hey sister
antibiotics
are your friend!
Summer 2026 ..catty shmatty..the pen is more powerful than the sword..
songanddancegirl 