The Good Plates – a poem

(A tribute to someone who I no longer have to give a shit about)

The Good Plates

You own a “good” dinner set that you can’t allow yourself to use

You excuse and are obtuse as to why not, you are excessive

In the face of opposition.

Your position is that your mission is to keep it nice,

unbroken, unsullied, unused and so another set is purchased;

The second best set.

And these ones you allow to get wet, but you still expect reverence.

They’re delicate but not untouchable and still quite valuable

You calculate, and hesitate to even place these before

those undeserving and unnerving, who you don’t let yourself respect

Mostly they get to eat off the the third-best set.

The Good Plates – a poem

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