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A Ramble I Wrote (i)

A Ramble I Wrote (i)
by Karin Taylor

At least once a day I am swimming in the debri
of my mind’s shattered splintered thoughts
passionless, lifeless, nothingness emanates
but the soft roundness of the mulling things over
feels familiar and even though there are jagged edges
and splinters, even when I slam the hammer on my thumb
it feels comforting and I am reassured, this is a safe
place for sifting through the rubbish, I will no doubt
uncover some treasure, a thought, a moment..and recycle
it, reliving it, or collecting a new thought, packing
the container of my mind, with a fresh memory of something
seen or unseen, something heard or not heard, something
felt or not felt. It is tiring and yet it is sifting,
refining, during the search, I am filing things away.
Some to the very back of my mind, where the papers are
wedged in any space I can find, some in steelbuilt
cabinets, alphabetically arranged, some numerically.
There is a stiffness to this formality, an almost need
to deliberate over each thought and file it, identifying
it, labelling it with Times New Roman type on slips of white
paper, identifiably lacking the letters ‘e’, ‘o’, and half
of ‘q’. The smell is ‘office’, a fragrance I love. Like
‘library’ smell, I can never get enough.

(copyright 5/3/14)

A Ramble I Wrote (i)

© Karin Taylor

Joined February 2008

Artwork Comments

  • Michael Jones
  • © Karin Taylor
  • F.A. Moore
  • © Karin Taylor
  • JRGarland
  • © Karin Taylor
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