Autumn Cleanout



She can hear the call

Of inner voices

Succumbs to the tempting tales they whisper

She cuts




Flotsam jetsam jettisoned

Cast out into space




She vacuums in each corner

Around the cranial furniture

Under the heavily hirsute carpets

Splattered with greying brain matter


An accident

A brainstorm

Ideas got out of hand


She hums to the tune of voices scolding

“You’re doing it all wrong!

You’ve missed a bit, just look!

You’ll make no man a wife

If you can’t clean and cook!!”


So she cooks

The books

In her arithmetical mind

Stretches out finances

To cover all her costs
Stamps on all the voices

Stores them in a soundproof box


Not needed

For now

Or ever


Copyright March 2013

3 thoughts on “Autumn Cleanout

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