why would I keep this crazy stuff
been actively not cleaning the bedroom hovel for almost three years
But this morning I convinced myself to try and get over some sorting fears
I opened box after box, parcel after parcel, bag after bag.
Most of this crap I threw out, thinking “what am I? a hag?
Why would I keep some of this crazy stuff?
Who am I impressing? I cannot throw hard enough
I will have enough for a bonfire to light up my forest tonight
But there is a wind advisory, so tonight will not be right
I have thrown away this, that, these, those, and the other.
Who would be the proudest? My neatnik clean freak mother
I wonder if she is in heaven cheering me along with a song?
That would be lovely I think as I am tossing along.
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