Welcome to The House of Clutter


Welcome to The House of Clutter



The dresser in the entry is filled with masks, coupons, lists and my lost Visa, and yes that is my husband yelling, “not again.”

 Move ahead, No, that is not Tyrannosaurus Rex but a treadmill that blocks our blackboard. I could break my neck trying to write our to do list. Forward to the legal book case. Nothing legal about it except how it opens and gets stuck. As you can see only organized by the size of the book: The New Good Vibrations, next to How to Cook Everything, and lots of poetry books. Robert Frost just escaped, moving back to the woods he does not know.

Move on past the kitchen, unless you would like a free coffee grinder.   

Don’t trip over the old sections of the NYTimes. Did you read the Science section yet? And now the living room filled with mail, catalogs, the current Consumer Reports for research before we go on Amazon. And finally a sofa and the copper table that I have labeled camp grounds, my husband’s roost. This is where he works on the NYTimes crossword puzzle, eats two Granny Smith apples and candy corn to complete the puzzle in ink I help with my limited expertise: Lord Byron and French, a language I never studied. I open our back door to let cold air in and scream,” The Turkey Vultures are flying and dropping their crap.   My husband says”,No big deal  At  least it’s white.”

Mare Leonard

Mare Leonard lives and works in the Hudson Valley where she is an Associate of the Institute for Writing and Thinking and the MAT programs at Bard College. She has published five chapbooks of poetry and the latest at Finishing Line Press in 2018. ShRecently she has published poems at Ariel Chart, Terror House, and Communicators League  She has a full length poetry book out for consideration  and is writing  new poems of resistance.

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  1. when caught up in the act of art i believe we forget the most challenging times remain in the domicile

  2. it's cute and i know the editor tries to stay as diverse as possible but I really prefer more art than folks spinning yarns.

  3. I am reminded of my parents' cluttered house, especially, but whose stacks included "True Detective." My own house? Certainly Marie (is that her name?) should come in. Unread National Geographics and catalogs that probably won't see an order. But, you never know...