It's Still Life

How to Lick Stamps Properly

(An Old Woman’s Bedtime Lesson for her granddaughter)

TO BEGIN:
the old woman hands her granddaughter
an envelope,
its corner waiting for a stamp
like a tiny, thirsty tongue.

“watch closely,” she says,
and licks the glue—
not too much (that’s obedience),
not too little (that’s doubt),
but just enough
to make the King’s profile
wink.

the crow caws approval.
the robin takes notes.
the cat, of course,
claims stamp-licking
is beneath his dignity
(but leans in to supervise anyway).

THE SECRET INGREDIENT:
a half-swallowed giggle,
held under the tongue
like a stolen peppermint.
this is how you make
the paper remember
it was once
part of a tree
that also loved
a good joke.

HER FIRST ATTEMPT:
the stamp sticks,
but so does the mischief—
now the King
is definitely smirking,
proof that even monarchs
prefer mischief to manners
and the envelope
hums God Save the Weasels

POSTSCRIPT FROM THE OLD WOMAN:
“some say stamps are for letters.
Lies.
they’re for teaching the world
how to taste its own joy.
now smile, my girl.
tomorrow, we’ll mail
the moon another IOU.”