In the Storage Room
It is maybe ten feet long
Five feet wide.
The shelves on one side cover a third,
on the other side a quarter,
leaving a narrow corridor
just over two feet,
to navigate the chaos,
a footstool to reach to the top of the insanity.
In a deep corner are games,
and yarn and ribbons and
maybe some seashells
(though we may have finally used them).
Sequins that will never be used
(but you never know, they might be!)
Then the collection of paper--
origami,
construction,
tissue,
cardstock,
bags.
And glue--
Elmer's glue with caps that are always jammed,
glue sticks that are drying or fully desiccated,
hot glue guns that have woven their own shrouds.
And of course, the heavy box of paints.
And crayons. And pencils. And straws. And Q-tips.
And then Legos.
And Zoobs.
And doctor kits.
And puzzles.
And pens and pencils and Zentangle guides.
The other side was meant to be free,
but it has grown out of nowhere
a cart with scissors and unidentifiable bags
and drawers full of markers and bowls and sponges and tape
and I know there is something else
but I've forgotten,
which means I'll buy more of it.
There are googly eyes and rolls of paper
and mesh window screen and
about 50 pounds of rice (don't ask).
All I need is a ball of twine.
I know it's in here somewhere.