Julie McElhone #30 Table with Contents

The kitchen table where we meet dependable she and I
and have breakfast and teach and argue and storm away from
and come back to and learn and make craft and pile books
—extendable—
an often lonely answer

to the call of things. Those, those things,
pose like undisciplined acrobats,
the debris of our day sometimes in rhyming couplets:
there’s a bus pass
and a drinking glass
a cut-up toilet roll
in a wooden bowl
a tiger key ring
and a ball of string

you get the picture: unruly data
shape shifting reliefs of each other.

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