Abstract Thursday: Clutter

NaPoWriMo, Day 9. The poem revisits a topic not, alas, new to me.

Today I've attempted blank verse, maybe a bit ragged but I think it goes well with my upside-down photo. (Sorry, Ingeborg, there's no food here. At least I dearly hope there isn't!)

WHAT IF IT DOESN’T SPARK JOY?

With each trip to the mailbox, clutter grows,
with cards from loved ones, bills to pay, some meds
to save my driving to the pharmacy
and waiting in a crowded room with sick folks.
Each day I wake up looking forward to
the joy of filing, shredding, answering,
paying, and clearing out the papers that
these small tasks represent. Where does my time go?
I honestly can’t account for it, and yet
the paper stacks are higher every day.
Marie Kondo tells me not to keep
anything that doesn’t spark my joy.
She doesn’t seem to comprehend the place
of paper to an artist whose right brain
insists on having every sheet in sight.
Here’s a bright scrap I’m thinking of collaging
in my journal (if I ever get back to it).
And there’s a printout of a recent poem. 
Not sure it’s finished yet, or where to file it. 
That monthly bill is automatically
paid from my checking account, but have I entered
the details into my checkbook? Better check!
Here’s a half-read New Yorker. Should I save
a few cartoons to be collaged into
my journal (if I ever get back to it)?
And isn’t there a quote I meant to save,
which I lost track of when I flipped the page?
I have no doubt that Marie Kondo’s advice
is perfect for tee-shirts, sweaters, scarves, and socks
you know you never wear. Wrong fit? No joy? 
Then out with them, with pleasure and a sigh.
But paper doesn’t fit the mold, say I.

Extra: Jackson Pollock cookbook at Zupan's grocery.
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If, like me, you're living alone, and unlike me, aren't writing poetry and are bored out of your skull, consider giving this self-parody of self-isolation a listen:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5azNpTwVk8&list=RDMMBh-eo3tvE
Or, you might just write a poem! National Poetry Writing Month doesn't end until May Day.