Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Bag lady

I have realised that I cannot afford to live in my old creaky 
sunny happy plant filled flat. 
So I have done it; 
I have messaged my landlord and I am moving out at the end of the month.
When I was younger my mum and dad called me their wee bag lady. 
They used to give me a plastic shopping bag so that I could pick up everything I wanted to keep from the street. 
I picked up silvery chewing gum wrappers, 
discarded objects,
hundreds of shiny yellow dandelion heads. 
As I got older I began to horde everything and now I live in a room the equivalent of a junk shop. 
I collect clocks and cameras and suitcases 
and sticks and sandy shells and old musty books and woolly blankets and framed pictures .
I middle names.
I am now going back to being a bag lady. 

Sofa Life.