Loneliness of the Bottom Half

By Lynn Ockersz

There you crouch by your hearth,

Seeing your fires sputtering out;

Your hopes of a bubbly pot of rice,

Ending in inflationary smoke spirals,

Leaving you with the painful thought,

That your dignity as mother and wife,

Is gravely harmed and beyond repair,

For, a turn of events not of your making,

Has reduced you and yours to penury,

So much for that Trickle-down Theory,

That Pundits say will end your misery,

But they tell you not to stop dreaming,

Because soon you will be bailed out,

Of your State of longsuffering;

Thanks to Princely tips from ancient Italy.