The families in magazines all have straight teeth even the babies
and white carpets and ecru furniture.
Even the dog basket is ecru.
They pad around barefoot in teeshirts in winter
and they smile so hard their teeth must hurt.
They wear white to paint the ceiling and repair the lawnmower.
They cook things that only require stirring
in bare feet and white shirts
and they eat at a table of arctic whiteness.
Mother stands by proudly, wearing ecru oven gloves
and smiles to see them enjoying their banana and grated carrot salad.
The baby gets a smear of banana on his face.
They all laugh
and take his picture to send to the grandparents
who have never seen a baby with a smear of banana on his face.
Their cuteness excruciates.
I wonder where they live
and is it in some gated community
so they never get bricks through their windows
and the little girl with long blonde hair
doesn’t have to got to a school
where she has to sit next to a kid with nits and a bruised face
that she might touch with gentle fingers to sooth away the pain
and later because the smiling teeth don’t understand
sob herself to sleep in her white-sheeted bed.