The Mess Apologists

An unmade bed beckons sleep
it’s a swirl of cushy arms and
never ceases to evoke lovemaking
or the pleasant cooldark of nearmorning
a made bed reminds me of my mother,
her mother and their religious obsession
with order,
and orderly obsession with religion, ever
The AIO is on the floor basked in the light
of my architect’s lamp, a collegiate relic
who knows why its not on the desk, instead
there are dirty bowls on the desk whose transparent
face is hip and marred by fingerprints
The vibrator that you bought me back in 200:) is
on the desk, duh, next to my keys
EV-E is a perfectly white Mac corollary
even more stunning than what’s hiding in that
red leather portfolio I got you from Brookstone
Good news: I didn’t lose my TI-Eightywhatever
calcutalor branded “emohoney” its right on the floor
one of my Nine West sandals posed beside it
We have three fans, two black
one white.
I figured carrying my school crap in a sequined
handbag would make me seem more like an “adult”
you opt for the free spiderman backpack that makes
you look like a seven-year old with a beard
(those four lines have summed us up since we met)
Twelve hooks gleam over the door,
they are the only organizational system
that actually works for us, the clothes go
from the floor to the door,
it rhymes and its simple that’s all I can handle.
there is a power drill named Sam on the bookshelf.
a banana colored ethernet cord drips lazily from a high shelf
tangled in a tomato colored one emerging from a bright green
box, the box is from my “Pre-Dark Blue” era.
Snuggling with a cotton ball in the desk caddy
is the hard drive I was supposed to slave weeks ago,
the IDE-USB adapter is in an unopened inconspicuous package
beneath the desk being watched over by my theatre subscription’s
Mufasa face.
You put a special visual cue out for me in the DVDs
reminding me that I have Space Chimps out
I still dont care and I’m going to forget to put it away
before I pull out Shrek because,
I’m messy, spontaneous, visual, artistic
I have a high tolerance for amiguity,
I forget about what’s not in front of me
and I’m distracted by what IS in front of me…
sorry about the mess.


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