20160731 (discards)

You want it? It's on Craigslist or I gave it away---no idiot All Work, No Pay garage sale.

I bristle when people use “tons’

In reference to concepts: she has

Tons of experience—even, it was

Tons of fun. As someone who 

Has moved several times

In recent memory and is 

Preparing to move across

The country, shedding everything

Except my pets, clothes, tools, and

Car, please don’t tell me about

Tons. The attic is clear; the 

Second floor holds only my 

Bed, a night table and lamp.

The basement is getting there 

(Don't ask about the garage).

Between what I’ve donated,

Sold, or discarded there was

At least one ton of stuff. It

Wasn’t that I was an acquirer

Who bought things on impulse,

Although I picked things off 

The street on slightly more 

Than a whim, some of which 

I’ve already sold profitably, but

I fought hard not to waste 

What already exists: if not I,

Someone else could use it.

My plan was to redo the 

House into three suites and

Rent two. Those old boards

Shouldn’t just be pitched—

They’d make great screens 

And storms—which they did.

My efforts produced more 

Than sawdust. Others are now

Using what I made or saved.

I feel quite good about that.

Now that my future lay way west

I have dispensed with careless

Lifting. The aluminum cans I

Recovered from the treelawns,

The park, sometimes other

People’s rubbish remain on 

The ground for the homeless

Gleaners. I hope they appreciate

The recent increase in pickings

Now that I’ve given up. Once the 

Kids were in college I rented

Their rooms to grad students

At Case-Western, almost every

One from China, Korea, or

Turkey. One of the Chinese and

I talked in the kitchen as I 

Prepared supper. He said to me:

“You have an ice-tea maker,

A coffee-maker, a Cuisinart,

A microwave, and a stove; I have

A pot and a knife.” Ever since

Then I’ve thought to thin things

A bit, though I’m still nowhere

As spare as he (see earlier talk 

About “tons”). Lots of things

Must change. Hopefully I’ll

Get rid of my sixty-five pound

“Inner child.” I’d like to go

Vegan in my old age. Now’s 

The time to set about that.

As for other things, that’s at 

An end too. My books will

Come from the library. I’ve 

Enough clothes to last except

For underwear which always 

Seems to come out of the dryer

Threadbare like socks. When 

I finally receive my last kiss 

I don’t want my heirs having 

To ask, “Keep this? Pitch that?”

No, by then I’ll have thinned

It all out. No grand garage sale

Of the old man’s crap. What 

A pain.

c. J.S.Manista, 2016