Trashlings, Mess-wights and other Fae bogeys
We got an 8 yard skip today
If your first language is USA.
That’s a dumpster with no lid
We’ll fill it with DVDs and furniture
And other detritus to throw away.
And I will become a worshipper
Of decluttering and Feng Shui
I’ll smash up chairs and tables
Burn private mail and statements
Destroy by inches if I’m able
Tax returns, outstanding payments
And cast out anything else
That’s not incriminating
Comics, books, in awful stages of decay
Have become a joy to throw away.
But every second box I open
Has letters from friends or paintings by my kids
The photographs in envelopes and sleeves
Stop me in my tracks.
On great green walks around the lakes
Or under the Trough of Bowland’s shade
Nostalgia Elves attack.
I’ve waited for months for the time to be right
To book my 8 yard skip
To fill it up sharply with Trashlings and Mess-wights
Consign them mercilessly
But I’ve been outmanoeuvred by NikNacs and Scrapbook Spookies
In a magical mesmeric ring.
So like Thomas The Rhymer with the Queen of the Fay
I’ll probably be in here indefinitely.
