Gotta Go

Books to the library photos to family. Paint cans and lumber from renovations years ago. Most of the furniture including the piano. Fastest way to do this is rent a dumpster. On the internet nothing’s permanent. I like that. Photosynthesis, evaporation as if your spirit disappears when the sun appears. It’s a burden lifted not to have to persevere. Edits for clarity and brevity. One owes the reader a respite from the tonnage of fructifying English. To drown one’s book is devoutly to be wished. Coupla trumpets, big comfy couch, four beds and dressers and the contents of closets. Tools we don’t use, surge protectors and chargers, lawn and patio accoutrements, table settings for ten. Lamplit underground, the stray branch, synchronized chaos, a red fez. One canary, map of Antarctica, three deaf little otoliths, six or seven sybils. Extra salt and pepper shakers, sharpies and crayons, a printer and a scanner, the Bible and Koran. Kaput calculators and computers, subscriptions and prescriptions, a host of vitamins and the ghosts of ancestors. Time itself but not nature. Wealth and most of culture but not my health. That I’ll keep, and sleep—practice for perfect rest.