what i learned about wardrobes today

it’s not only that i have no furcoat
but the wardrobe smells too new,
alumium frames &doors slide
soundless almost as they

i sit on the carpet
think about the cat, sneaking on soft paws
from one end of my notebook
screen to–
&who knows
i never asked her
&she never says a word

so far we put 12hours into building this
miles to go,
a thousand little parts, strewn across the floor,
my knees and back ache,
hammer in one hand,
a battelfield of tiny nails dancing steel-jazz melodies

“we need the left nook//next frame” &
i grab an allen wrench, swirl faceless maggot screws
into a sea of fitting holes

&rain pours on the rooftop

it was snow back then,
a misplaced streetlamp
in a wondrous forest
&my heart exploded in my ears
the fear
of first steps

“can we turn// the frame?”
in the milky glass i see my face for only–

“did you sketch the lamp?”
“i//no but–”
“did you talk to anyone except–?”
“there was a poem– ” i say,
pausing on the flakes soft surface,

“it had wings and in a way it felt a bit like–
it got never finished”
“doesn’t have to?”
“yeah, but”

“think we’ll fix the right door first &”

“is it deep enough?”

a puff of wind, scent of trees
“two more clamps to go”

&a lion’s wild, majestic roar//

in the distance


17 responses to “what i learned about wardrobes today

  1. Those project with all the little screws – and the smell of new furniture. There is something that will come after we used it a long time.. The smell of wool and meetings – it points toward a future. Much like poem that you read over and over will change its meaning.

  2. Ah, Ikea has a lot to answer for…
    Almost puts one off new furniture!
    I love the contrast between the scent of trees/woodsmoke and the two more clamps to go…

  3. Hi Claudia–so nice to see you! I really enjoyed the back and forth between your own worlds and C.S. Lewis here–the cat a kind of interesting intermediary for Aslan (ha!), and the wish for magic to come into the world–of course, it’s there already as you show. Thanks! k.

  4. Assembling furniture must be up there with root canals? That is for some of us. Your thoughts and poem took a lovely respite from the job at hand.

  5. Bringing poetry and Lewis into the poem…I like that. You know your wrenches. At first my mind first read alien instead of allen and I realized, yes, wrenches are alien to me. Hope you like your new wardrobe.

  6. First steps can come with a lot of fear, especially if you are stepping into the wardrobe. “He’s not safe, but he is good.” It changes everything, when we take that step through, and there are other ways than just through the furs, of course.

    I can not put my finger on it completely, but the line that jumped out at me was:

    “it had wings and in a way it felt a bit like–
    it got never finished”

    It has me thinking.

    Por Vous:

    condensation & ice
    edge the window glass & reflections
    of christmas lights

    move under my fingers
    like braille –

    i don’t know
    what they say yet

    only the anticipation,
    so i wait & watch for the empty
    trees to translate.

  7. Loved how people real and not, events in the poem and in life get mixed here…but I respect you fixing by yourself the furniture…wow…. “a lion’s wild, majestic roar’ in the distance – maybe the reward you dream about…

  8. I didn’t catch the C S Lewis connection until I read Manic’s response..in that light this is a delight….already was a poem that made me appreciate the emotions that go into making a wardrobe.