Laundry by rosesagain:

in a circle we sit

my husband’s wives and i

scrubbing his clothes

rubbing raw the hands

meant to pleasure him later

if he so chooses 

we laugh at him together

at his unimpressive member

the way it falls limp after a night of drinking,

the way his pale face reddens in frustration



adorned in stiff, starch dresses

made to conceal us

to camouflage our bodies

because they are his

we continue washing, laughing

I really enjoyed this

I wonder if there’s more Mormon-polygamy-related poetry out there. I’ll definitely keep an eye out