Passover Woes

No carbs for you,
Deprived little girl.
Still a saint, unsexed by the Lord.
For where do these ideas go?
Do you put them in glass-sealed jars
And wait ‘till the marinating’s done.
Do you starve the princely woman
Fearing death so much she stuffs
Bread on her jacket, clutching a knife?
No carbs for you,
Deprived little girl.
You hunger
For a better journey,
One received, but not open yet.
Words pour out like disease, and taint the milk,
Turning egg to cheese
And bread to sin.
Fuck the lonely heart strings,
Taut in remorse.
Never played by delicate female fingers,
Never sung, shooed, or sharp.
No carbs for you,
Deprived little girl.
So much expansive knowledge
to weep and to curl.
Burnt edges brush
Crusting up merle,
Navigating the mind
To new sights,
“sounds divine.”
But so much is left
For the dogs.
Weaving through traffic; waiting for a miracle.
Angel wings is what you desire;
To stop time in its tracks
To devour the clouds
And spit out dandelion seeds
In the grass, replanting the weeds.
No carbs for you,
Deprived little girl.
Life’s too precious
To throw your intellect
Into the dumpster.