07 October 2014

Sales Pitch


Just a wee bit o’ cleaning, nothing too 
dramatic; dust, cobwebs, you’ll knock 
it over in an hour. For sure, it’s simply 
window dressing, except for an adroit 
accumulation of stuff which, wily in its 
precision, outmanoeuvres you. Ah, so 
where in echoes of its diluted silence 
does all this crap go now you ask

You’d expect an incriminating reply to
say - wherever you create the space 
with an innocuous codicil - it mustn’t  
encroach on anything else; what, on 
the Planet? Maybe, or its new-speak 
articulation of ‘your problem mate’ 

So we play the game; five hours later 
we’ve distanced all regulations, what 
had seemed impossible truly was so 
despite the cleaning definition; we’re 
now redesigning how things ‘look’, a 
question to an enduring silence 

& precocious observation - it says we 
weren’t cleaning per se, but ‘creating’ 
a scene. Yep, is the frisson of reason, 
that which was lived in is now a place 
we’d want others to see; so go ahead 
salesman, take pictures creatively 

© 16 September 2014, I. D. Carswell