On being a better woman

(I don’t write poetry other than haiku very often. But here’s an attempt at some word play.)

I want to be good well enough.
Better too, but not too much.
Just good is good enough,
good like
the first lines around my eyes,
the second ball in the gutter,
the third rooster that crows,
the fourth man to finish,
the fifth pound on the hips.
It’s just that god damned,
always well meant,
hugely good advise
of better people than me
that doesn’t do me good.

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