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Thoughts on Unpacking, Thom Gunn Unpacking in the raw new rooms, I clear, Or try to clear, a space for us, that we May cultivate an ease of moving here With no encumbrance near, In amplitude. But something hinders me: Where do those go, these knick-knacks I forgot? -- Gadgets we bought and kept, thinking perhaps They might e useful someday, and a lot Of others that were not: Bent keys, Italian grammars, Mickey Mouse caps. And there are worse grotesques that, out of sight, Unpacked, unlabelled, somehow followed too: The urgencies we did not share, the spite Of such and such a night, Poses, mistakes? an unclean residue That drift, one after another, till I find They have filled the space I carefully prepared; The sagging shapes I thought we left behind crawl out within the mind seeming to sneer This is the past you shared. I take a broom to them; but when I thrust Round the diminished luggage, some roll back, Surviving from my outbreak of disgust As balls of hair and dust Made buoyant with a kind of fictive lack I need your help with these. They rest unseen in furniture we know, and plot a changing To grey confusion of the space between. Now, as I sweep it clean, I realise that love is an arranging. For you.
_____________________ Blog? Blogged.more words i dont know what to do with. not today. i believe in miracles. that they do happen. tomorrow. she wrote this letter and put it in a bottle. a bottle called memory. we see how beautiful it is when it is vague. who comes clean then. someone becomes happy, then. my life is not a show. even if it is, no one said no to torching it. THEN DO just thought of aaron carter. this is so him. somehow. you know, those words, they came from true hearts. you know, these smiles, they mean so much. . . . For you.
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