Day Fifty-one

Today's words:

Album

Squid

Toffee

Judge

Frame

Hour

When I was in college, I'd clean pot on the White Album.

It was the best for that. Afterwards, we'd eat squid

(Calamari) at Arturo's and maybe finish up with a toffee.

Today it comes all clean, in lucite boxes. I can't judge

Today's smokers; it's no longer my frame

Of reference. Once I spent many an hour

Getting high, but it's been decades since an hour

Of my time went to that. In the album

Of my life that song is done. It's an old picture in a frame,

One that I hardly look at. But the squid

At Arturo's is still good, and I think I'm a good judge

Of fried calamari, though I never follow it with toffee.

Not that I don't love a good sticky toffee

Pudding, but only an hour

Or so after dinner. And I'm no judge

Of music, but the White Album

Isn't too bad. Better to leave the squid

For another night however. These days the frame

Of my life is a more rigid frame,

With the occasional toffee

And squid

(Though never together). I bill by the hour

And deliver an album

Of the proposed project for you to judge.

I hope you will judge

It on its own merits, and not frame

It as a gesture for old times' sake, like an album

Of old snapshots, or a toffee

Found forgotten in a coat pocket. If you've got an hour

Or two to spare, we could get some of that squid

At Arturo's. You don't care for squid?

Well, who am I to judge?

I see the hour

Is growing late. I've got to go pick a new frame

For a painting I've had for a while. I'm looking for a toffee

Color, something to match the album

Cover. Afterwards I'll get that squid, as I head home with my frame.

Don't judge me too harshly if I don't take any toffee;

At this late hour I think I'll just look through that old album.