.
small comforts are the packages of distrust
in my bulging shirt-pocket, hanging by
its last threads —
i am a tea kettle, stationary as a decor,
another plaything of the gentry — ideas
pushed into my gut like a day-old
pastry — stringent, decadent, slightly off,
i am a damp kitchen towel of moderate
temperatures — calescent on the fore-
head, dizzy with the worry of a fresh
lack of sickness — rich, sweet, a little off,
i am a window curtain kneeling on
the tartan floor — the warm breeze sets in
and moves around in its obvious rhythm of
convalescence — swift, heavy, switched off,
— i take small comforts through the nights,
carry them along the crooked lines, one
inclined thread hanging by the other.
.
Image source: Ragina Bogat, This Way That, 1990
For MLM Menagerie’s Wordle. Also linking it up with the Tuesday Platform at With Real Toads.