vignette 

before death or weather

before hell or high water

before I discovered my left hand

well before a chicken foot

was spotted partially submerged

in simmering broth, pale yellow,

and horrifying, its tortured claw reaching...

in a time of dark ages before slow dancing,

or the introduction of Mr. Potato Head,–– 

before Mona Lisa and Virna Lisi made public

exhibitions of themselves, and before

routine civil-war amputations,–– there were,

well–– many other things.

but a poem has to stop somewhere within

its own devices.

(see "Zooks"! closing Robert Browning's "Fra Lippo Lippi")