Storage

When I went into storage

I was size ten to twelve.

Fourteen when I came out.

Seven and fourteen years of changes,

Effectively ridiculing the storage effect.

A 15p first class stamp, a 100 watt, light bulb,

Madness.

 

Dales professional photographs of me

with plotted Carribean hair,

wearing yellow African cloth from African days.

 

Norwegian Reindeer skins disintegrate

as I lift them up

 

All those hopes packed up.

The children’s clothes

A simpler desire for a home

Unrequited still

 

All those scarfs from India

You always need a scarf in India.

Two rails still do not hold them.

A scarf a day now.

Indian tiffins galore.

 

Photographs of old people, look younger.

Albums of leached plastic sheet technology.

The image of ‘Your big moment, Rachel’

When as one of the flower dancers

I was centre stage, is obsolete.

 

Nuts, seeds, spices, all smell and taste of petrol.

What madness to store a canister of petrol.

Bah humbug!

 

2012 Fairweathers, Halesworth

 

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