The Ballad of Marjorie Menopause
“You gave me strength. You held my hand.
You dried my womb. You gave me crabs.”
Those were the final prophetic words left by the one that got away. The one with glorious treats. The one named Marjorie Menopause.
We met at a church bake sale on the outskirts of Turdland. She was selling her famous rice crispy treats and I was just high enough to need one.


