a soft table

no ornaments
to run away with

random accumulations
off and on 
this counterfeit floor

stacks of purpose
still sink
into hungry darkness

even the smallest table
can make objects disappear

a sign collapses

4 thoughts on “a soft table”

  1. Sometimes I feel like your poems are a challenge. You know, to figure out what prompted the writing of them.
    I hate clutter. Well, maybe hate is too strong a word. But I surely dislike clutter. Things accumulate no matter what I do. And the longer something sits somewhere, the less I see it. But the pressure from the clutter never seems to leave me.
    This is what you poem made me think of just now.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I bought this small table decades ago. A simple folding table from Ikea. All these years, I’ve taken it for granted because it works well enough. And the strange feeling that this thing that has been a part of my existence for so long without much thought about it caused me to peel back the layer of habit and take a peek at how this table operates in my mind.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s