"The Victims" by Sharon Olds

Sharon Olds is an American poet who was born 19 November 1942 in San Francisco. She received the 2013 Pulitzer Prize in Poetry, the 1984 National Book Critics Circle Award, and the first San Francisco Poetry Center Award in 1980. She teaches creative writing at New York University.

When Mother divorced you, we were glad. She took it and
took it, in silence, all those years and then
kicked you out, suddenly, and her
kids loved it. Then you were fired, and we
grinned inside, the way people grinned when
Nixon's helicopter lifted off the South
Lawn for the last time. We were tickled
to think of your office taken away,
your secretaries taken away,
your lunches with three double bourbons,
your pencils, your reams of paper. Would they take your
suits back, too, those dark
carcasses hung in your closet, and the black
noses of your shoes with their large pores?
She had taught us to take us to take it, to hate you and take it
until we pricked with her for your
annihilation, Father. Now I
pass the bums in doorways, the white
slugs of their bodies gleaming through slits in their
suits of compressed silt, the stained
flippers of their hands, the underwater
fire of their eyes, ships gone down with the
lanterns lit from them in silence until they had
given it all away and had nothing
left but this.

Perhaps one of the most important things to note about this poem is the lack of a constant meter. This poem is filled with enjambment that carries us through the story being told, but it also stresses an important aspect. All of the lines are staggered, expressing that they can be viewed as staggered, incomplete thoughts. The majority of the poem is a reflection of the past, with the speaker's tone changing towards the end, showing that time has passed and that the speaker has different thoughts now.
Lines one through seventeen have an almost victorious tone throughout. The speaker is recalling how there was gladness when the mother divorced the children's father. "[H]er kids loved it," because their mother "took it and took it, in silence, all those years" and now she had finally stood up for herself. Her mother had been a victim of her husband, and because of this, the children were victims too. It is easy to see that the children felt that everything that happened to their father afterwards, from losing his job to losing his fancy clothing, was justified for the way he treated them and their mother.
Then again, in the middle of line seventeen, the father is actually mentioned as that. Before, it was just "you," the identification of having this "father" too horrible to be given acknowledgement. After line seventeen, the thoughts become less staggered, and in fact, they are formulated into one seemingly coherent sentence. Here, the tone changes to sympathetic; it is softer and more gentle. Rather than resent the father, the speaker actually identifies a sort of compassion for all the "bums in the doorways" who have lost everything because of the decisions of others.
The biggest theme in this poem is the emphasis that everyone is a victim of something. The beginning of the poem makes the mother and children the victims; the end of the poem shows the father being a victim. Overall, though, it is plausible to recognize that the father is the true victim. This does not justify the fact that he could have been aggressive and harsh to his wife, because the wife and the children "took it and took it" for years. Yet as the speaker reflects in the end with "until they had given it all away and had nothing left but this," there is the possibility that the father was doing everything with his job and his luxurious lifestyle for his family. The job and the secretaries all made it possible for him to provide a good life for his family. With all of that gone, he lost everything his life was built around. It is implied that sometimes people give everything they have for others, but the others will victimize them in the end.

"What's That Smell in the Kitchen?" by Marge Piercy

Marge Piercy is an American poet, novelist, and social activist. She was born in Detroit, Michigan on 31 March 1936. Her poetry tends to be free verse and deals with feminist and social concerns.

All over America women are burning dinners.
It's lambchops in Peoria; it's haddock
in Providence; it's steak in Chicago;
tofu delight in Big Sur; red
rice and beans in Dallas.
All over America women are burning
food they're supposed to bring with calico
smile on platters glittering like wax.
Anger sputters in her brainpan, confined,
but spewing out missiles of hot fat.
Carbonized despair presses like a clinker
from a barbecue against the back of her eyes.
If she wants to grill anything, it's
her husband spitted over a low fire.
If she wants to serve him anything
it's a dead rat with a bomb in its belly
ticking like the heart of an insomniac.
Her life is cooked and digested,
nothing but leftovers in Tupperware.
Look, she says, once I was roast duck
on your platter with parsley but now I am Spam.
Burning dinner is not incompetence but war.

Based on all that Marge Piercy stands for, it is somewhat difficult to determine who the speaker is in this poem. There is a strong and clear voice that seems to be Marge Piercy, so it is possible that in this case, Marge Piercy is the author and the speaker.
As a feminist, Marge Piercy is identifying the societal concept that women are supposed to serve others. She provides examples of food from across the nation: "lambchops in Peoria" references Illinois; "haddock in Providence" references East Coast cuisine; "steak in Chicago" references the Midwest; "tofu delight in Big Sur" identifies with California and the West Coast lifestyle; and "red rice and beans in Dallas" identifies the South. These examples help show that women burn dinner, regardless of what it is.
The anger she displays in this poem places focus on the stereotype that women must serve men because society says so. The intense imagery of plotting to kill husbands by barbecuing them or serving them poison spells vengeance.
Incompetence is the inability to do something successfully. The last line of this poem says that burning dinner is not being able to cook properly, but it is war. That's a drastic difference; incompetence involves ignorance or lack of a skill, whereas war involves intended violence. The entirety of the poem leads us to show that women can intentionally burn food because they are fighting against all that is expected of them as being a woman. Society has always stressed that wives are supposed to serve their husbands, and women will always be lower in class than men.
Marge Piercy, then, is personifying feminist ideas into a common occurrence: burning dinner.

"Leaving the Motel" by W.D. Snodgrass

William De Witt Snodgrass wrote under the pseudonym S. S. Gardons. He was an American poet who won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1960. He was born in 5 January 1926, and he died 13 January 2013.

Outside, the last kids holler
Near the pool: they'll stay the night.
Pick up the towels; fold your collar
Out of sight.

Check: is the second bed
Unrumpled, as agreed?
Landlords have to think ahead
In case of need,

Too. Keep things straight: don't take
The matches, the wrong keyrings--
We've nowhere we could keep a keepsake--
Ashtrays, combs, things

That sooner or later others
Would accidentally find.
Check: take nothing of one another's
And leave behind

Your license number only,
Which they won't care to trace;
We've paid. Still, should such things get lonely,
Leave in their vase

An aspirin to preserve
Our lilacs, the wayside flowers
We've gathered and must leave to serve
A few more hours;

That's all. We can't tell when
We'll come back, can't press claims,
We would no doubt have other rooms then,
Or other names.

This poem depicts the story of two unnamed people who have stepped away from society to be together, with a high possibility that the relationship shouldn't even be occurring. They have checked in with different names, as mentioned in the last stanza, so that no one will trace or find them, and they have paid for the motel room.
The beginning of the poem is actually the end of the occasion; "fold your collar our of sight" implies that clothing is being readjusted to leave no trace of where the person has been and what has happened. They also have to ensure that the second bed in the room looks as though it's been slept in, when in reality it hasn't been touched. This is proof that the entirety of the poem is scandalous. The couple must take steps to ensure that no one knows of what has happened there and that no one knows that they were even there. The meticulous checklist runs through the poem, which indicates that they have taken every precaution beforehand and are continuing to do so now.
The author's tone could be one of awe or appreciation for what motels can offer. Even though this poem is sexual and scandalous in its various ways, motel rooms hold many people's secrets. They hold forbidden love and bonds unlike any others, and that's what can make motel rooms so interesting. On the other hand, the tone is also overwhelmingly regretful. Motel rooms open up new possibilities, but the possibilities seldom ever last. As fascinating as these places are, they also remind us that nothing lasts forever.