The Old Maid Factory…

PENTAX ImageThe Old Maid Factory
by Constance Urdang

This is the factory
Where they manufacture old maids
At one end of the assembly line
The women are jostled into their places
They wonder where they are going
What will happen to them
One says, “Where is my sister?”
But the foreman is not permitted to answer

First she will be hollowed out
Her juices extracted
Her natural organs replaced
By parts she is not permitted to name
Her five senses
Are replaced by substitutes
Guaranteed non-inflammable
Non-toxic
Her sister is replaced by a substitute
At the end of the assembly line
The old maid minces out
Into what she calls America
She has forgotten she is a woman
she has no sister
In her shrivelled brain
Something murmurs that life is an accident
She wonders how it happened to her

Image link

 

Advertisements

Any thoughts?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: