She sits among her dimples drinking tea
and eating cake
and drawing up her list of things to do:
The eyes, of course. The chin and neck.
A touch of collagen to the lips
and possibly a tiny trim
around the hips.
And then the thighs… She sighs,
a modern Marie-Antoinette
bedecked in bling and plump complacency
while far away and out of sight
another hungry child slips desolate into endless night.