the on-going composition of a testament

the current state of affairs

pertaining to "everything else" is unfinished;

things laid upon the table

have been postponed and redirected,

as items once of little interest, hung

within narrow spaces here and there

are now overpowering inconveniences. 

across the interior landscape, strange and useless

things are crammed into life as if order

was not an option, and

secret things to be found someday

by someone not assigned to find them

is becoming too real to be ignored.

this is my testament.

I have no messy garage, nor manicured backyard,

nor permanent woman to leave behind,

and what remains in the medicine cabinet is an out of date

"number one doctor recommended" earwax removal kit.

my physical properties seem less involved with responsibilities

than that of a burned-up match head.–– 

(ah..those wonderful Ohio Blue Tip, sizzling and crackling

beneath the secret porch of my childhood house!)

sulphur.–– I'll bequeath to them the scent of sulphur.

"everything else" continues to be unfinished.