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Pillow Shams

In a shanty, near a bog, by a sycamore forest
twenty-seven-miles south of Winton, Mississippi,
there is a lady, an old fossil of a lady who sits in a chair
embroidering pornographic designs on pillow shams.
Every weekend, heedless of hot or inclement weather,
in a roadside stand, built by someone she has long forgotten,
she sells her pornographic pillow shams for a tidy profit.
It is said she's wealthy enough to retire, to buy a new home,
to move near relatives, but since she can't remember who they are
and this is all she knows to do, she sits, and embroiders pillow shams.


J.D. Heskin

If you have any thoughts about this poem, J.D. Heskin would be pleased to hear them.

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