Objects
written by: Kat Welch
An object in the cupboard
ceases to exist.
So, it takes up life on the floor.
But—
objects spawn themselves,
strategically,
around the edges
and on any flat surface,
remaining within sight, within mind,
tempering the worry of forgetting.
Mess is in the eye of the beholder.
It bothers you,
not the object owner,
who sees nothing—
there is nothing to see.
Despair ripples beneath the surface.
It’s best not to look too long.
Judgment is a razor to the soul.
The eyes say it all.
A vague idea exists now
of an object’s last known position.
No idea at all
how one object became a mountain.