by Mark Young
My bedroom needs a set of drapes.
The thing I had before had too much zip,
i.e. it wouldn’t stay in place,
i.e. the blinds refused to blind.
So walking through the labyrinth at IKEA,
with different coloured walks in place of thread,
I sifted thoughts of owning each display,
and parked my thriftless hide on paisley couches
and leather chairs for fat execs.
My sense of style and pocket-change
nixed fustian extravagance—
I wanted something plain yet elegant
and under thirty bucks. My girlfriend had
the right idea: sheer batiste by the yard
in periwinkle blue and almost razor
thin, then a valance rod with finials,
a halberd pike from end to end,
and then brass rings with tiny clothespin clips
to clasp the folded cotton hem.
Now gentle shadows seal the room.
There is no need to scurry out
of bed, or scramble out of sight
and giggle into pants and shirts.
— from Juniper Volume 4, Issue 2