Peanut Butter Halloween

She moved with the caution
Of a married woman
Dressed in the fashion
Of a long buried icon
Slumming the Back Page
Of the fish wrap
Used to line the bird's cage

Locked in the bath
He'd read her secret diaries
She'd scratched out with
A stash of diatetic cherries
Smashing trassh between the sheets
Of the wench he watched across the street

The kids took up residence in FAO Schwartz
Where the stuffed pteridactyls
Proved to be flagrant flirts
Their mothre's day fast being ruined
The back burner cooking burned spleen
Because she couldn't find change
For the wishing machine

On Fridays she'd spend
Time with her girfriends
They'd pretend the past never happened
While they sighed at the lone dancer
Over gossip and oysters
Pearls dripping from polyester

And the pain
In her breast burned
With every beat
A malignant cloud glowed
Stopping her feet
Whispering an answer
From the Tropic of Cancer