Elbows
I’ve scoured all sorts of poetry: alas,
no paeans to the elbow. No one loves
those sharpened, bony, scabby bits; we pass
on all their best points—for example, shoves
on overcrowded trains to win more space
and take discreet revenge for trodden feet;
or at the Sales to nab a prize with grace;
or on a plane to quell an armrest cheat.
The secret weaponry of common sense
and all they ask’s some moisturizing cream
by way of TLC—low-maintenance
and generally working like a dream,
all memory of childhood nagging shed.
Look! how they neatly make a grown-up prop,
providing satisfaction when you spread
and plant them firmly on the tabletop.
D.A. Prince lives mainly in Leicestershire, UK. Apart from three full collections and one chapbook (all published by HappenStance Press), she has spent a regrettable amount of time hanging around the light verse scene. Her next collection, a chapbook titled Continuous Present, is due out from New Walk Editions in June 2025.