This poem has been simmering inside my head since I attended my first writers' conference last year.
Perched regally on her chair, Lady Katherine commands attention
First generation American, head held high to belie her immigrant roots
Her parents rigid with fear, taking orders without question
Their daughter - certain of her place, smug with success, careful diction
Relating the antics of nine wild turkeys in her yard
Lush greenery and wildflowers, her adopted home offers her solace
and the luxury of dismissing her parents' struggles on her behalf
Throwing aside her recollections of used clothing and sensible shoes
No doubt she'll dazzle the masses during her presentation
She, the aggressor, takes no prisoners; instead, laying waste to all whom are beneath her
Proclaiming as she surveys her domain, sure of her mastery
over all creatures, great and small
"There are no trailer parks in my town."
The peasants tremble.