Nana's Brooch

The brooch is the thing
That reminds me of her

Her brooch, always on her
Always making her look
Like a class act

My poor Nana...

Such a hard life she led

'Til the day she died
She worked

Worked, worked, worked

Now she's dead

And here's her brooch

Maybe we should have buried her in it
But she never asked
So who can say?

I look at that brooch
And I see Nana

But you know what else I see?

A cruise
A nice cruise
On the Bahamas
Sipping drinks
And getting a tan
That doesn't require
Having to find a parking space
In the strip mall
So I can go to Benny's Bronze Babes

I see braces for Anthony
Get that Stonehenge he calls a mouth
All straightened out

I see my husband of ten years
Who has never known a luxury in his life
And I see myself
Hiring a private detective
To prove he's been seeing that girl from the bakery
Down on Tito Street

I'm no fool
Nobody eats that many muffins
In a week

So yeah, I could keep the brooch
But what the hell would I do with it?

Wear it?

It smells like the spice rack
At the dollar store

Should I put it on a mantle somewhere
In front of Nana's photo?

It's not a bowling trophy
It's a pin, for crying out loud

Nana would want it
To do good

Because that's all my Nana ever did in her life

Good

So I'm selling that brooch
And I'm taking the money
And I'm putting it to good use

And once I get back from my cruise
And divorce my husband
And get Anthony's jacked up teeth straightened out
I'm going to go put some nice flowers
Right in front of Nana's headstone

(You know, I hear the florist next to Benny's Bronze Babes
Is having one hell of a sale)