everything is sleek surfaced and brightly lit,
an array of welcoming rooms
where women dance in kitchens
and children lick wooden spoons
and a man tells us to embrace what's wrong
as he garnishes the clams with garlic
In this world everything has its place.
The children put away their toys
and your friends come to dinner early
and always always help you
bake the meatballs.
They say we can make things better.
They say the days of "have to" are over.
They say that playtime can happen anywhere.
And we want to believe them.
So we set the sofa in the center of the living space.
We move our backyard inside.
We arrange and arrange and arrange, finding beauty
in a tealight holder
in a bed canopy
in a plant pot
in a clear lacquered bamboo knife tray.
There are a few catalogs I feel this way about.
This could be a new thing-- Poems dedicated to our favorite catalogs :)Delete