i was disgusted by myself
and all the stuff that i had left.
how many times can someone
gut a basement?
i kept adjusting all the piles.
i just kept thinking all the while,
“what are we gonna do with
all this waste?!”

and it’s a special sort of hell
viewing one’s past and present selves
in the context of the things
we keep and reject.
and when i finally hit the road,
sheila was burdened by the load.
it was a slow crawl
full of boxes
full of shit.

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