Felicity, That Harlot so Pure

Mother asked me today
“Where have all the good men gone?”

I
Told
Her

They’ve gone to a land beyond the buttercup trees
Where they laugh and love and do what they please
Father plays with his bar buddies all hours of the day
Sister(yes, sister) chomps of gumdrop flowers
Stepbrother I hate has no fun, No Way!
Grandfather I hear, has now tremendous powers
To kill and be killed, or to love and be loved
They say
He walks through the fields
Watching love grow
From the smallest titmouse
To the tallest giraffe
And the flowers and bees and boars and bards
Grow tall from the ground and fruitful they are
It never rains, and the sun never shines
No snow, no wind, no dark coal mines
For the men to slave away in.

Mother
Was
Pleased
And
Bought
Me
Iced
Cream

But I lied

The good men have not gone to that beautiful place beyond
The buttercup trees.
They’re all upstairs
In my closet drawers.