*******,down, sue
even from the grave,
you suprise....
i open the door to a knock,
two delivery men.
one burly, one stout,
stand on the threshold.
with a letter and a box.
the letter, from your solicitor
said.....
this is your bequest to me....
okay, i got a box of stuff....
nice, but then i read more...
you have bequeathed to me, your office, contents.
entire and intact....
the delivery men ask me where i want it put...
i say in the shed out the back
there....
so now an hour later...
33 boxes , computer, desk office chair, three foot mask
making block, and various
posters, painting prints and
other items of theatre practitioner's paraphenalia,
sit in piles,
ordered and hapahazard,
in amongst ben's benches, tools and lathes.
and me,
i sit in, the old red leatherete, institutional,
easy chair,
holding the sack of paper and teabag infused garbage,
that came with your office.
entire and intact...
i am both laughing,
at this absurdity
and sobbing at the fact....
that this office,
will evermore,
not have,
the integeral piece,
that makes it whole,
....entire and intact...
for you my friend
....are gone
and not ever....
coming back.
thier is a largesse in this gift
i cannot explain....but also a wicked sense of humour....
so very much my friend sue..