I put up a Do Not Disturb Sign. I considered buying
a portable desktop scanner, confronting the phobias
in the basement. My project:
I wasn’t sure, but likely it would not involve the art
of decluttering, the issue of whether the turquoise
t-shirt, its row of tiny songbirds, sparks joy,
would not revolve around a bag of holey socks,
the portable sewing kit I purchased
at the Dollar Store.
Maybe I would spend my days making a raised bed —
not for growing vegetables but an actual bed
with a flowery, bee-glutted duvet.
Or, because sometimes being stuck at home
makes you want to climb the walls,
perhaps my quarantine project
would require roof jugs, t-nuts, self-drilling screws.
Maybe there’s something to be made
from all these broken umbrellas:
a wacky, wiry bouquet. Maybe my project
will become clear once I understand
the glass brain found at Herculaneum,
how it’s possible that inside Neptune
it’s raining diamonds.