Recline

Writing prompt #36: Work with a number of objects, moving them around on a field or surface-describe their shifting relationships, resonance's, associations. Or, write a series of poems that have only to do with what you see in the place where you most often write. Or, write a poem in each room of your house or apartment. Experiment with doing this in the home you grew up in, if possible.

Everything reclines in their positions in the study. A massage roller lying unused. The coffee cup, unwashed since time long forgotten, brown with stains, a silver spoon tucked inconspicuously into its depths. A mountain heap of bags strewn across the floor, like the bottom of a tree on Christmas, gathering dust, their contents unknown. Piles of broken printers, conveniently placed aside and replaced by the next new printer, garnering the jealousy of its peers. Shelves filled to the brim, yellowed books and flyers stacked on top of each other. Other assortments of shelves filled with a queer mix of items, from toys to medicine to files. A stuffed bear couple happily meet above the CD rack, still wrapped in its original plastic packaging. A box of beautiful gift wrappers balances precariously on top of a book shelf, but reclines nonetheless for fear of toppling off. The collection of abandoned items, unaware of their existence, yet staying to await the fate that is decomposition.

A small dirt-covered child slips into the cold, dark and damp cellar through the vent, ruffles through the heap, stops, smiles and grabs an object, rubbing it quickly on the hem of the shirt, then retreating clumsily with a shiny new toy.