Green Peas at Stake

Ye Olde Yarn Shoppe (Dew Drop 17)

Ye Olde Yarn Shoppe (prose-poem)

Fixation, Merino, Worsted, Alpaca, hand-dyed Sierra. I could sing the poetry of yarns on Open-Mic Night at Bulls and Frogs. That might have been before Debbie Macomber's passionate books and you bought me a set of crochet hooks. Then they burned down Grace's Ye Olde Yarn Shoppe on Revelation Avenue, and you sent her red roses for comfort. Her consolation, you said. Her consolation, my demise; for I was never worldly wise. So I named all the savage weeds in my yard after the two of you, and yanked them out of the soil one by one: Poison ivy, Knotweed, Crabgrass, Sodom's Apples, Carrot Wood, Buckthorn, Fire Tree, Goosefoot, all tangled up together, held down by the crochet hooks in a thrash bag. Now, I buy all knitted things, ready-made, from Macy's.