Hewitt-Smithson

What she used to like, she was starting to hate

She used to like molten glass poured into the big industrial vat
When she visited him, she'd see the molten
Glass and the fountaining of sparks
This was how they made glass
This was the red-hot center of the industry
And there were all these people doing it
And what they did was they guided this liquid into the molds

And waited for it to cool
The molds and the colors, they were all
Designed by rich ladies in the suburbs
But everyone in town had a set of the juice glasses

She used to like the museum and its neglected glass exhibits
When you were a teenager, it was a good place for heavy petting
Now she was starting to hate it

She used to like that there was just the one ice cream place
And you had to drive twenty minutes to get there
And in summer you knew everyone in the line
You knew them from church or 4-H or what have you
Half the fun was standing in line
The only choices were vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry
She used to like it, but now she kinda hated it

Downtown there were nothing but strip clubs
She used to like that her husband
Still had a yen for the feminine things
Once she went along with him, but she felt bad afterwards
And now she hated all of it
She hated desperation and credit cards
She hated drunkenness
She hated guys who were shoving their last twenty-dollar bill
Into the G-string of a girl with too many kids

She used to like the steady living from Hewitt Smithson
Manufacturers of consumer glass
There was insurance and daycare
But now the plant was closed
She had a friend working fast food
Maybe she had two of these friends
She used to like fast food, but she was starting to hate it
Lolestra and diabetes and obesity

She used to like her kids
She used to like taking them to the same
Rusty swingset where everyone took their kids
"Concussion Park," they used to call it
But now her kids just told her to fuck off or called her a bitch
And they blamed her for all the stuff she in turn blamed on the world

She used to like the cable dial, the ninety-seven stations
But now it was all cubic zirconium filigree
And people eating rats for the million-dollar prize money
Or it was ministers trying to tell the people who got laid off
That they should love Jesus
"Give Jesus your unemployment check"

She used to love Jesus, but all Jesus did was build a stadium
In a rusty town for a minor league franchise that always lost

She used to love the hawks circling over
The squashed squirrels on the highway
But the hawks were gone

She used to love a drink, but now the
Drink didn't do what it was supposed to do

She used to love to fall asleep

She used to love the roller coasters at the amusement park

She'd been in love once, but now love and
Disappointment were next-door neighbors

When he interviewed at Hewitt Smithson, her husband
It was because everyone knew someone at the plant
They watched the molten glass spilling into
The big industrial vat like it was a waterfall

They all got married beside this waterfall
The waterfall of Hewitt Smithson
And someone threw a bouquet
The plant manager threw them a bouquet
The future was their bouquet
Or the future was their oyster
And their oyster had a pearl
And the pearl was the future
Or it was the company and the town and the friends
And the church and the kids and the school system

But if that bouquet came flying toward her now, she'd be sure to duck