What the Box Says

Last night Cecil Markovitch, Travalon, and I went to a Hungarian folk music concert at the venue where we go to Slow Food, only upstairs. It was the kickoff of the two performers’ US tour, and there were like twenty people in the audience, so I felt kind of bad for them. They were very young, just college students: a female singer and a guy playing traditional woodwind instruments. Sometimes he played the accordion, which we liked better since it was peppier, and sometimes he played the piano. They were even joined on a couple of numbers by a fiddler and bassist from right here in town. I do love the weird scales in traditional Hungarian music. 

Afterwards Rich came to my place to put together my second set of plant shelving, and thank goodness it was not defective. He brought a rubber mallet to pound it together, since the instructions recommend that, even though the box says: “No tools necessary.” Since I promised you a poem today, I’ll write something about that. Maybe this will be a “beat” poem instead of rhyming, so snap your fingers while reading it.

No tools needed,

That’s what the box says,

Until after you open it

And read the instructions.

Easy assembly,

That’s what the box says,

But I followed the instructions

And it nearly fell apart.

Supports 350 pounds,

That’s what the box says,

But I put a potted plant on it,

And it wobbled back and forth.

Richard Bonomo

Doesn’t care what the box says.

He pounded it together

With a rubber mallet.

Now my shelving

Can hold lots of plants on it,

But it never would have worked

If we’d done what the box says.

Famous Hat