small happiness

In that country where everything is made,
boys are valued
like ring-pops to second graders.
girls, seen as a small happiness,
are fed to the earth
like seeds. they don’t grow
like yams in melanesia,
ten feet tall and celebrated.
they choke on apathetic soil
and the small bones of other unwanteds.

while above, a strapping son takes a
yoked beast across his father’s field,
shooting gallery duck style.