We are down in the Dump,

brother and me,

dumping things:

the excess chattels and appurtenances

to be crushed back to their

beginnings.

Big Business itself with mashers and mushers,

sifting and sorting things

by the sweat of man’s brow

and his handy hands and pockets.

Utensils, containers, ornaments and artefact

expired, superannuated, outdated by later models and upgrades,

newer techniques, materials, ideas.

 

Afterall, mind you, all they are and were

are 3D manifestations of

of i d e a s, to start with!

 Made into matter

that duly got used, misused, broken and neglected,

fallen behind cupboards,

out-living the allure

of their first investment,

the attraction of collecting more and more -

bigger, better, newer, pricier

on the status quo markets:

the need to amass objects,

finding security in a nest.

 

So we unload the surplus, the emptied, cracked, unwanted

when out of the corner of my eye, I espy

a golden Buddah there, hoiked out and set aside

alongside a few other items retrieved:

a plastic pot, a toy robot;

I ask the man in a helmet-hat.

You can, he says -

as if one could ever have such a thing.

 

So we come away, not empty-handed, though

released of all those burdens:

the accumulated stuff,

shed like a snake-skin;

glowing, alight in the presence of SERENITY itself,

no matter he/she has a hole in the skull

and one ear half-lopped off.

The celestial smile is still there.

 

But then, with a jolt, I realised that it does matter.

How could someone have chucked it out

because of that hole in the head,

and the imperfect ear?

 

What obscenity, depravity - because it is thus blemished

by the exigencies of 3D life.

 

What?! - the epitomy of all beauty and compassion,

crowned with the effects of mortality

 

Found this today,  scribbled

in an Australian 2003 diary: