Knitting

fluff

every evening,
for twelve years,
i would contemplate
my navel,
a nightly session
with my knotted
depression
in which
i would inspect
the cleft
to see what the day
had left.

the daily deposit
would be scraped out
and stockpiled
into shoe boxes
until i had enuff
of the stuff
to knit you a scarf
of scraped fibres,
a lint-stitched
muffler,
a belly button
fluffler.

Lord of the Ring-binder

Part one came with a free ring-binder,
As the advertisement on the television
Declared it would.

In it I stored a selection of
My most treasured possessions:
A certificate providing proof
Of my quarter-finalist status
In the West Midlands Junior BMX Challenge,
Nineteen-eighteen five;
A card depicting Norwich City wingman,
Jimmy Neighbour,
Smiling and bepermed, blithely unaware
That he would shortly find himself
The subject of a £150,000 transfer
To east London side, West Ham United,
(Coincidentally another football team);
Papers from our divorce settlement;
And a receipt from Preedys News,
Long since closed,
Detailing the purchase of two packets of pacers,
Long since chewed.

I threw the magazine away.
What need had I to know of
The World of Cross Stitch.

20131208-222636.jpg