Ending With Lines From Supertramp

Monday, April 24, 2017

I CAN’T remember what they’re called,
the little tabs that go in shirts
to keep their collars straight—not tabs,
but plinths? Or stanchions? I’ve a friend
who calls them slidy flats. But what’s
the proper word for them? Not sharps,
surely, or monoliths. They can’t
be called straighteners or guides.
    But anyway I’m missing one
today, and so have one curled prong
or pointer: flyaway off to
the right. I feel a boy in school
inadequately dressed, of poor
couture, cannot afford fresh sticks
to sharp my collar points. And what
of love? It’s raining again; and
you know, it’s hard to pretend; oh no.

• • •
 

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