Were you, reader, ever the younger child? Did you have to watch your sibling get a training bra, go to prom, pick out a college first? Did it hurt? Or, more simply, were you ever grounded? Did you have to watch through stained-glass tears while your parents carted away your Gameboy or your stuffed dog, with the assurance that you’d have them back in three days, four days, a week?
Bouquet Toss My sister got married And set atop a high shelf - I was grounded from her. I waited and stared impatiently As she moved North, Took semi-annual international jaunts Wore the latest fashion And left her tabs open She barely decorated her mansion And found every excuse to come home But by then there was nothing to talk about No common wire to perch on Two years and a torrent of abuse Locked my sister behind glass While I continued to stand below her shelf To catch her Now, though – I hear it in her voice A storm is coming I throw out my arms.