fog

piles of things

sitting in the corner of your head

unexamined frozen in time

like when you see your friends

twenty year old you picture as

a kindergartner

the book you were writing

the painting you started

mental clutter

signaling how rarely you

are at home in your own life

where are you living

as dust grows over the must do

list to the point that dusting

makes the list how did it come to this

all that heavy stuff in the middle

of the room gone trip you up

if you don’t clean it up

you may need to come home

seems all the closets are full

the weeds ate the tomatoes

you meant to water before

you forgot you planted

them the un-spoken thoughts

left in the dark till the same

situation pokes its head up from

the basement where you stuffed

it because the attic was full

with untended things no room

to process new things maybe

go mountain climbing all

things become is with or without

you or perhaps do the dusting

might be treasure among the trash

maybe its time for a spring brain

cleanse eat only light for seven days

then throw up the garbage with

the gold maybe using a strainer

maybe letting it all hit the toilet

more will grow

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
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