You can give me all the old stuff!
I like to dry the dishes and myself best
with these towels: broken handles, worn through fiber,
initials, faded. Even bordered with embroidery.
Which grandmother did this delicious hand come from??
That I can now sob my nose into a piece of cloth,
beautifully made and durable for a distant future …
—-
You can give me all the old stuff!
These computer beige, where the fan overheats,
the processor falters, groin migraine. I am yours
ailing machines, a new one every year ….
—-
This taburet covered with engravings, measles, small
Melanome, lots of secrets. chair, on which I sit, on
one leg, that wobbles; track back? where he stood, before he landed
on half a century the attic ….
Half a century exam! while another
just going to scrap.
I started out as a child dolphin in the first, inflatable
paddling pool.
I'll have a round soon, completely frayed! I,
carry out these indications of a transience for you!
—–
I trust: in used inventory: in spoon, the times real
were silver, and, now grey, Bags, when there were still potters,
Disciplinary Style Military Folder, stiff sofa and cushions
…. drenched in a lavender, who once flowered in a
free landscape at the Etang de Berre.
—-
old goods, still in goodsless status: every utensil,
every piece of furniture a symbol, for status or more:
personal belongings, an achievement, the shows in the
right direction, Creation of a future.
Therefore, mother, flatten the towels and fold them three times?
for the worry, for the future, gesture of respect, For
the children.
Blow my nose in a Kleenex and—
——-
But then you have to throw that child away.