Those hampers for all my ***** clothes
and to sit on
and to move when I move rooms
and to run my hands over
their wooden webbing
and those wooden hangers
so I won't contemplate suicide
by choking myself to death
with a metal hanger
and to put my precious
tweed suit on
and oh the vanilla dixie cup
with all it's classisism
as a reward
for just being in my room -
in my room, in my room!
Get it.
Utter nonsense but an interesting
insight into my youth.