The Glue Widows

From the sticky planet,
as you know, we get our glue
with great difficulty.

So many good extractors
have been lost.

Their widows
in their shiny suits
with flagrant stitching

hate the bumper stickers
for their cause, they say.
Some do.

Others sit before calendars
of obese slugs, the goopy vines
and river slows,

eating ice cream
with their fingers,
watching the minute hand
stir the room.

 

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