The Pecking Order

Upward Mobility

“You can spot nouveaux riches from the flowers they plant.
‘They don’t know any better,” my Mama would rant.

Then she’d drive me around and point out the disparity
Between tasteful shrubbery and utter vulgarity

“We had much more ourselves,” she’d continue, voice hushed,
“But we lost most of it when Gran married that lush.

“And then your jerk father took so much away,
That now the estate is about to decay.”

Thus began my apprenticeship toward higher ambition—
To not marry down (as had been the tradition).

So I dutifully walked with a book on my head
And powdered my cheeks and painted lips red

For I know not even Mama’s love is free—
And besides, the whole family's counting on me.