Control Freak

No items are found out of place;
20 inches each side of the vase.
No angles are left to be turned;
The dust never settles; it’s spurned.
No books will be left upside down
Or magazines scattered around.
The photos are sorted and stored;
To display would be striking discord.
For with no correct categorisation
What’s left is sheer abomination.
The walls painted white floor to ceiling;
Too much colour would be so revealing.
The display of the personal articles
Will dismantle the person to particles:
The teeth, the hair and the feet
Bring forth notions that we are but meat.
Existentialist angst is intrusive;
Must clean to make it conducive.
To sort and to file is to calm,
To primp and to preen is to balm.

but the real          world                   is messy                            and cluttered
it’s chaotic       it’s jumbled              it’s smelly
it’s unpredictable                       not tidy but dirty
it’s muddled                   disordered                 and disarrayed
just like this last          rhyme
but                                                      that is                                      OK


look messy chicks – how wonderful! (this is an old photo – we haven’t got new chicks – but one day we will)