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The Iron

Sits there and judges. How dare you mock me! Do you think I have time to perfect smocked sleeves? Turned down collars Frilly blouses Pleats wrinkle-free. You are redundant No longer of use Except as a doorstop Or in self-defence. I will not be cowed By your flat, grey face. I glory in chaos, Crumpled cottons and lace. I shy from the conservative Perfectly straight We will not have flatness Except on our plates.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things