Tuesday poem: Flat pack
August 12, 2013
Flat pack
Welcome to the world of self assembly!
All the basics are provided. You as a baby,
tools, a diagram of a family with two options:
happy and Tolstoy. Pick up the Allen key.
Turn it towards you so as to see the end.
Notice the six, even-handed sides?
This hex key is useful for casting spells.
Wave it over yourself and gurgle.
Direction is unimportant at this stage.
You are both magician and magic;
worker, hive, queen bee and honey.
Gradually, you will begin to take form.
You may lean a little to left or right.
This is not a fault of manufacture,
but a natural quality of the components.
Wobbling, flopping and total disintegration;
undermining by termites or excess thoughts
are also to be expected. The high gloss finish
may peel a little. Oil it up with achievement
(not included in the kit, but easily obtainable).
When assembled, you should find yourself satisfactory.
If not, please use the supplied rope as you see fit.
This poem is from my collection The Cancellation of Clouds. You can order the book on the ‘About’ page, if you are keen. I think I was trying out a little Dorothy Parker with that last line…
If you wish for more poetry, press this black feather, fly to New Zealand, and present the following invisible docket:(…………………) Poetry will be presented. Free steak knives are also a possibility.