Minimalism is Subtraction for the Sake of Focus



I purge.

I live on a white sheet.

The word ‘Free’ on a wall.

A book with blank pages. A pen that always has ink.

One wall is window, I  face this way.

My library is on a device.

Bleached bones, a shore line dragged clean.

One top, one skirt, one knife, one fork, one pair of shoes.


I saw that book. Everything from the house on the front lawn.

Twice I have sold my sewing machine and bought another.

I make things. They fill a shelf.

Sand mandalas made by the monks take days, they are admired and raked away.

Every possession a liability.

It is enough to kneel in the grass and watch an ant sip water.





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