my couch likes double pointed needles.

it’s old, long, and made of dark fake leather.

the 3 cushions seem to sit at just the right angle

so that when i set a dpn there for a single moment,

it rolls merrily down the slope

slipping easily between the slick piping

and the dark crevice up against the armrest,

which has become my own personal bermuda triangle.

i refuse to count any longer

how many minutes i spend per project

recovering dpns from that chasm, it’s too embarrassing.

the last time i set a dpn down

(only long enough to make toast)

my post-snack search came up empty.

i removed all three cushions, groped around

and came up with this sorry lot:

a mismatched pair of m&m’s

(one blue, one green),

a solitary rice chex,

12″ of burly spun

in lotus pink, &

a partial chip;

none of which

got me even one stitch

closer to finishing the brass colored

cabled vest i am so wanting to wear now

that the early march wind is warming things up.

refusing to return my needle is a change in strategy for the couch

which has long been satisfied with quietly smirking at me

as i stick my tentative fingers into the mire

of collected un-miss-able things

that it usually hoards.

it was only when i gave up

with loud exasperated sighing

and collapsed, face first onto the carpet

physically admitting full defeat to my nemesis,

that i came eye to eye with the dpn at last.

it sat perched peacefully atop

a large grey dust bunny

beside the couch.

the physics of how

it could ever have landed there

are beyond my rusty science skills, but

i am sure, despite its innocent appearance,

that the couch was the mastermind behind it all.

i just can’t quite prove it, yet…

‘defeat’ taken from 92:11 in the psalms.