Sex in Suburbia
—after Eavan Boland “Ode to Suburbia”
Five o’clock and the man-of-the-house
pulls into the drive, slumped
behind the wheel—dinner in the oven
or thawing on the kitchen counter.
You are housebound, a stay-at home mom,
a suburban Cinderella, aware of your boobs starting
to sag, your thighs on the verge of wobbling,
the strong pull of boredom.
You feel used up before your fortieth birthday,
upscale, upsize, outmoded, open concept mood-lit.
Nothing a conga drum, or ho-hum chum, a dose of pot—
out in a parking lot wouldn’t sanctify or rectify.
Your clothes are tatty, your housecoat’s ratty,
your six-year-old’s bratty.
Even your mother warned you to get a job, set up
your own bank account. Take a page from her playbook—
brighten your outlook. Remember how she chain smoked,
pottered about in the garden, charged choice cuts of meat
at the butchers, complained about her varicose veins
neglected you kids. Brighten your day. Take a hike, ride a bike,
toss your toddler in a basket, pull your six-year-old
behind you on his own set of wheels.
Get a dog, or a sled. Don’t get out of bed.
You’re only human after all. Buy a vibrator, put money down
on a Miata, tootle off to the beach—anywhere out of reach.
Trade your silver slipper for flip-flops, your garden
for a deck, find some deck chairs at Goodwill.
Shake a martini to swill. Greet you husband
in your altogethers, demand he orders takeout.
While you’re waiting, why don’t you make out?
Disarm him and disrobe him, swell him, cast a spell
on him, pinch yourself awake and aware, spin him
like a spinnaker. Polish him like mirror, gaze
into your own reflection, arouse him
before the stroke of midnight.
Dale Champlin is an Oregon poet and artist. Many of her poems have appeared in The Opiate, Timberline, Willawaw, Cirque, Triggerfish, and elsewhere. Dale’s poetry collections are: The Barbie Diaries, Callie Comes of Age, Isadora, Andromina: A Stranger in America, and Medusa.
