These are the things one needs: easily
found receipts, half-eaten samples,
mementos, beginnings of ideas – bits
and pieces blending together
untrammelled and sweet
No handbag size explains
dimensional largesse unduly implied;
understanding whether dreams or
necessities occupy sacrosanct space
is ever uncharitable estrangement
Believing there’s fantastic organisms
cloistered in hidden niches awaiting
random unzippering also fails – eyebrows
archly appraise why one need
keep them in a purse
Perhaps shoulder bag blandishments
explain the curse; where, be it maligned
or praised, one eventually locates
the car keys surely comes much
closer to the day’s reality
© 16 August 2011, I. D. Carswell
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