same ***  train wrecks effecting perplexed Texas housewives
who’s lives can never be the same again
they fearfully place toddlers into shopping cart jail cells
and whisk them haphazardly through produce islands
and cereal box displays –

     broken bottle beneath the battered bed wetter
          bending back before brackish beer bests him

She runs up and down crowded streets in a frantic tizzy
smeared eyeliner explains the due date is really just a number
and that without help
surely
they will take this precious bundle of joy –

     fast asleep in a drunken coma only the steady sound
          of deep unrelenting snores can be heard throughout the concrete tomb

with a tiny human perched precariously on a calloused knee
tears of resolute frustration fall on flower print Capris
holding in one hand every form of ID the state offers
and in the other, a forehead –