Stuff

When all your stuff is gone, then who are you?
The decades’ book-hoard, clothes that don’t quite fit,
Forgotten shoes, odd presents – all of it
Memoir in cluttered matter. What to do?

Live lighter. Be a Bedouin! A few
Small household gods in knapsack; Not a bit
More; And above all, you must surely quit
Acquiring stuff. To circumstances true

And budget. It was all just sediment
For me. Sure, there are those who like new stuff
And dislike old; not me; acquiring never my intent,
But stuff accumulates. And then, though harsh and gruff,
I get to like it. Muffled sentiment.
The works of Thomas Nashe, now gone. Enough.