Poetry

I claim the teaspoon!

A rare, tiny, shiny thing

when out at dinner trying your hand at adulting.

Those soup spoons and dessertspoons,

tablespoons and long handled ice cream spoons

just don’t feel right.

Maybe you can ask for a teaspoon

without being snorted at all night.

And what’s with these odd fancy handles, when

normal metal cutlery is perfectly alright?

Plastic, wood, swirly-intricate designs –

they just don’t feel right.