A Meditation On Those Who Judge Hoarders

it's the ultimate in nosiness isn't it?
those pictures of the inside of
people's houses, little apartments as if the

cameras were bearing down on
a crime scene:
souvenirs from the World's Fair 1939

too many polka dot dresses in the closet;
pick just one.
why don't we go all hog and just

get a judge and jury in there.
maybe the Supreme Court
right there in the living room

with all those magazine pathways.
the New Year's Eve confetti.
Postcards! they'll shriek.

-the viewers at home lap it up.
you keep postcards? salt water taffy?
helping themselves to the candy

from last Christmas;
closeups on the mantlepiece dust...

when I was young house guests were told
by their mothers: bring something with you:
you know, special soaps, a little bouquet of flowers

a teacake. be nice at the party.
don't overstay your welcome.
help wash up.

nowdays they come to visit:

simplify! they say; leading the way
with a smile and a lot of energy.
The trucks roll up, early onset,

the bric a brac boxed goes out.
burglars do the same.
let the healing begin they murmur

on their way out the door
with your stuff.

mary angela douglas 26 march 2016