“Happiness is my beeziness, so is craziness, so is fizziness.”
~Champagne magnate Christian Pol-Roger, cited in The New Yorker (Dec. 27
& Jan. 3, 2000)
She pages backward
through each catalog
my mother’s ghost
and makes me choose
from each display
the prize, sometimes least-worst.
Bad taste is no less costly
so she teaches me
It is an exercise
like playing Czerny.
Let grim-faced equalizers
damn this if they will:
I opt for bubbling luxuries.
The piper’s paid no matter what our bills
for soaks in freesia or cold showers;
coffee bags or beans with macadamia.
She never meant
for things to go so far, my mother
- even to poetry, with Saturday’s mimosas
in one crystal flute; white tulips in another.
©2000, 2011 Katherine Anne Harris. All