Obviously we have to get rid of all our belongings before we can fully poetically engage...
Books. . . A lefthanded electric guitar. . . Wednesday's moustache (previously worn). . . A well-loved steamer. . . What every poet should drink their tea from. . .
Belongings eh? They just kinda creep up on you and next thing you know you've gone a small child's blackboard, eight gin shot glasses, and a half full bottle of green chartreuse too far. But hey. There's an easy way out: get rid of them. I was going to give every item a 'chronicle' but me and a friend started cataloguing and after 4 hours we were as far on as...ooh...item number 37. Which incidentally was a polyester, herringbone weave, red shirt popular with merchant bankers in the 1970s. We gave up. Since this week I've had people coming round and realising they've always needed a lemon slice squeezer...my stuff is depleting. Slowly.
No comments:
Post a Comment