Tech Milfs Tech milfs with sad eyes Stroll their newborns sadly Under eucalyptus trees a species Ranchers brought here To break up the sea wind Their husbands have gone back To work at Google or Meta or X They don’t think of lonely women In muslin gowns in sepia tones Walking widows’ walks wishing The trees would grow faster The wind drove them Mad raping their hair Which sparked in mirrors As they beat at it with gold- Backed brushes at dusk When the wind lay dead in the meadows So I will think of them for them I will will them to know that They’re not the first to have felt this Lonely this lost despite The map that says “You’re here”