In Situ
I look at this room, the littered surfaces, the overflowing bookshelf, the bare tabletops, the fridge squatting apologetic and inappropriate in the corner and the vast empty swathe of floor under the bright naked lightbulb and I realise that this is not a place to live in. This is a place to light a desk lamp and work in. This is a place to adjust a tie, gulp down a coffee and go to work from. This is a place to pass through. This is not a place to live in.
3 Comments:
Great poetry.
I'm glad I checked....even if this is woefully brief...and makes me want to demand...MORE!
I'm with Iwaya.
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