by Laura Winkelspecht
Suburban women wake up early to exercise,
load the dishwasher while brushing their teeth,
and dress their kids on the way out the door.
Suburban women drive to office jobs
in late model crossover vehicles
and pick up overpriced coffee on the way.
Suburban women schedule family vacations,
manage doctor appointments and oil changes,
and plan pregnancies in between potty training.
Suburban women attend soccer games,
take turns at carpooling to school,
and organize fundraisers and family reunions.
Suburban women decorate for each holiday,
nurture their prized sourdough starter,
and sew masks for everyone in their family.
Suburban women host socially distant barbeques
with their brown neighbors two doors over
and promise play dates with genuine smiles.
Suburban women tolerate condescension
with tight-lipped smiles and long memories.
They register voters on the weekend.
Laura Winkelspecht is a poet and writer from Wisconsin who writes with the hope of finding lightning among the lightning bugs. She has been published in Anti-Heroin Chic, One Sentence Poems, Rat’s Ass Review, Poets Reading the News, and others. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee.
