99poems/spoondrip

And then there’s
spoon drips
to decide about.
Good women always
have them, cows
and cats sitting
on the stove.
Not that I’ve
ever been a good
woman. I did
have a spoon drip
though. But it
didn’t do all I
might have hoped.
Just something else
to wash.
There’s something
corny about spoon
drips.
Pathetic really
in their delusion,
that this bit of
cermaic can have
any impact at all.
It’s hard to find
a spoon drip
I can stand.
Even if I reconcile myself
to the concept.
Instead I use a bowl
or saucer,
and then serve
in it, feeling
ahead of the game,
that I have somehow
won.

5/6/99