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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