January thaw

Sodden ground swampy
a mash of leaves, plants, flowers
once distinct, now soup.

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Dishes in the sink

Domestic mountains
rimmed with grime, sponge scaling this
Everest of suds.

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Forgotten summer
umbrella aged by winter’s
wig of heavy snow.

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Dishwasher repair guy

Olive pits. Glass shards.
Bent straw. He warns, It’s not a
garbage disposal…

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Brief holiday visit

Once her nest, now a
museum to her old self.
Home is elsewhere.

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Past life public

Looking back I find
this old friend, written record
for the world to view

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You still up? Dude, it’s
not like the internet won’t
be there tomorrow.

Visitors to a dead blog

WordPress stats: twenty-
two-thousand views in ’12. This
despite no new posts.

Hoarders on A&E

What we hold onto
owns us drowns us sedates us
slow death by shopping.