No One Likes Her Aspic Salad

What she doesn’t know
is there’s only
a curvy carroty
snake-like hook
of an ‘s’
between mother
and smother
where a good spit clean
always lasts too long
like braids too tight
in starched underwear
while overheard praise
becomes a mocking taunt
and who ever invented
the ‘kid-on-a-leash’
should be forced
to smile at her
and eat it.