I got my ya-ya from my mamma. In our family, it runs.
I was southern then. I had the affinity.
I had it before I was thirty.
In those days there was plate spinners on TV.
And Bandstand as the pastime.
My spoon slid into Kraft macaroni from a box.
I ate ate it all up.
My parents lived nearby in another generation.
I didn’t know the name, Dien Bien Phu.
I didn’t know from severed ears except Van Gogh’s.
After a while, I wasn’t shocked anymore.
I grew loose.
It was too late to be astonished.