At approximately 7:40 p.m. tomorrow evening
A strong feeling will come over Kate Brown
And choke her to death. It will be one of those
That sneak up on you even though its been
Lumping in your chest for over a month.
The sob will escape the thorax and hit her brain,
A heartbreak the shape of an aneurism.
It's not as if she didn't feel it coming,
While watering roses or setting the kettle to boil,
But she was drowning in a sea of domesticity
And not a single bystander saw the signs
After they set her afloat in a wooden box
In a sea of lilies to meet what dreams
May come, Michael will button up his blazer,
And return to the office and the solace of his assistant.
The children will set off to conquer the world,
And I will write this poem, to which my professor will reply:
"But where is the situational irony to give it context?"