"the little things, mon amour"

the little things, mon amour 

It’s an inside joke how you say “armoire” 

for “chaise”—

how you speak for the arm of a seat 

like anatomy well-illustrated 

in medical books you fetch

from foreign antique shops, 

a habit that’s getting costly, 

maybe out of hand, 

but we own the armoire 

as well as the chaise—

which is often an auto 

corrected form of my name.

~CMH

This poem is in response to a prompt concerning mistakes and typos from "Next Line, Please" of The American Scholar.