These then are the remnants I leave behind,
unsorted. A rummage sale in drawers.
Anatomical legends, a right-sided handful.
Be mindful your heart is on the left.
Telephone sanitiser, unused.
In case bad-tempered talk needs wiping clean.
Dental film, a selection of sizes, unexposed.
For the exploration of hidden cavities.
One plastic humerus, without its funny bone.
Wave wildly to intimidate disruptive colleagues.
Clips. A copious supply – both paper and bulldog.
Also staples, rubber bands and treasury tags.
Gather with these all the vacuous, self-serving strategies
you’re expected to read, but never will.
Best left casually on display, as if work in progress.
Use the clothes peg if all else fails.
Unopened, in kit-form, a balsa wood glider.
Save until you’ve time to build your own flights of fancy.
A stone. Smooth, rounded and the dead weight of a kidney.
It will nestle in your palm. You may close your fingers around it.
ix.2017
