The Times, They Are A'Changin'

Ron Burgundy had never heard that song, so when he fell, he fell hard.

I'm not handling it too well, either. I guess that's the problem with living the good life--change is almost never for the better. I'm not saying it's worse, either. Just different, and taking some getting used to...yeah. Just taking some getting used to, dangling preps and all.

Must be the plague...this is just an out-of-sorts week. And it's only three days in. Wahoo.

Song of the moment: "Anything Goes"...see following poem for example


Junque Jewelry

I've lost my edge pieces and have only interiors
one more rhinestone turtle
corner of a marcasite pill box distinct enough
a single emerald brooch fitted tightly in the center
but I have twenty more strands of grey pearls
not a clasp among them

where is the wizened Asian man who should have knotted me
the silk and cotton between each Tahitian potato

all I can see are little eyes in curving corners
I don't even know if they had lids or lashes once upon a time
I know only their ruby truths
of sex and love as antonyms
or homophones when the night
is cold enough
dark enough
long enough

wicked vermeil is winking across
twelve pieces, each looking like conjoined
toads--all lumps and gaping mouths
pewter newts crawling along gold
box chains with no pendants
earrings with no backs
only French hooks
and clip ons

somewhere the edges are hiding
under the coffee mug
the couch
the sleeping cat
somewhere the box is overturned
its nest of treasures and picture map
waiting for me

waiting