It's maybe widely known that glamor's not
A feature of a single mother's days.
Well, here we get a concentrated shot
Of what that life can wreak upon her, gaze
Upon her squalor, and then watch her lie
When some old flame just spots her in the street.
From then the bad decisions seem to fly
Right at us, and the consequences meet
Us almost ere the mistakes can happen. This
Predicament is often played for laughs,
But here it's simply squalid, sad and hits
Us in the gut. Some clever edits graph
Trajectories of tragedy. We sweat
With Zoe's oldest daughter most, and fret.
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