Things

 

I have too many things.

Books

Clothes

Disks

Junk.

 

Things stacked on things,

Things stuffed in things,

Bowls of things,

Things of things.

 

Things teeter in piles,

They mutter in corners.

Things plot and congregate,

Multiplying secretly.

 

Broken things reproach me,

Big things need little things,

Electronic entrails

Add-ons and doo-dads.

 

Symptoms not trophies

Debris of addiction,

Things pimped by catalogues,

Shop windows, television.

 

Things have gone feral,

Sharp cornered, toe crushing,

Things bark my shins,

Trip me up and assault me.

 

I must do something,

Some radical cleansing.

Things weigh me down,

Hem me in and oppress me.

 

I will do something

A clearance, a voiding,

My home will be spare,

Unencumbered.

 

Then I will be able

To display my new things

To advantage.

 

 

 

(by Mific)