Little pork Lady Libertys in the butchershop window

Deep-brown sculpted bittersweet in the chocolatier's

A diadem crowns a carved pumpkin face

The dressmaker's stola-draped mannequin

Everybody celebrates: in cotton balls, in blocks of soap

In all material but fish heads, asphaltum, or gauze

She's an imported cousin or long-lost aunt

Sister if you look hard

Where to seat her at the table?

Do you invite her at all? They say

She's raucous when silent, silent when asked to speak

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