Tales of Saucers in Shorter
Tales of Saucers in Shorter
In an old country house with five chimneys lived an old lady, my mom, though younger than me now, she seemed old to me then, and in the china cabinet she collected antique plates and platters and flatware and soup tureens and lots of dainty cups and saucers, not to mention salt cellars, which are not, places downstairs as you might imagine, but only little glass boxes with tiny serving spoons, set one my each guest to spoon out the salt as the needed.
But enough of salt cellars, and not to mention salt sellers, and with all apologies to Caroline Bergvall there were, on the shelf in the round front china cabinet the saucers of Shorter, and even though, on occasion it was discussed, the how and why and when would it be proper, there was never, ever, any blowing and saucering, and if there had been the rake to do it, no one would have thought it meant to finish a project, it was simply the somewhat questionable purpose of serving coffee in a cup on a saucer, that and the way it kept coffee stains to a minimum on the fancy dining table cloth.
Be there fires or pyres of long or short versions of ancient poems, there will always be the saucers of Shorter, at least in my mind.
