I’d sit at my desk
My black cork bulletin board
covered with dated notes I found impossible to remember
I’d sit in my easy chair
My natural white pine bookshelves
adorned with living volumes I found endlessly enthusiastic.
I’d sit on my carpet
My fish filled aquarium
surrounded with fingerprinted glass, I found watching me.
I’d lay on my bed
My overstimulated eye
captured the shrunken apple heads, I found dangling.
In my museum-like living space.
By M. Perron (Originally written October 19, 1992)
Notes: Sometimes I’m amazed and a little frustrated at how long I’ve been looking to define myself.