Sunday, 4 August 2013

Dissociative Feng Shui

Whilst staying at your mother’s house,
you take a stroll downstairs
and stand, in silence, in her kitchen.

You rearrange the cutlery
upon the kitchen’s faded surface,
and make a xylophone of knives and forks.

It comes as no surprise: they play,
without a harmony, a tune
you have no way of recognizing.

You unplug her kettle, placing
it in the oven, which you cover
with tea-bags and washing-up liquid.

An unheard voice informs you that,
apart from footstep-muffling socks,
you seem to be completely naked.

You clothe yourself with items from
the fridge: a low-fat yoghurt t-shirt,
milk trousers, and a cream-bun hat.

Now dressed for action, your attention
is turned towards the downstairs bathroom,
the landscaped garden, and the lounge.

And in the morning, when she spots
her sofa up a tree, you explain
that this is how you’ve always felt.

(24th July, B-d-A)


  1. I admired those who has able to create a blog as wonderful as this! You are truly a hard working person. Keep up the good work and keep on posting.

  2. Thank you Mrs Spider Bot; I've only just noticed your empty platitude. I value your opinion like a skyscraper values cheese and onion crisps.