Kid in Stationery Shop, Hong Kong

I have known the inexorable sadness of pencils,
Neat in their boxes, dolor of pad and paper weight,
All the misery of manilla folders and mucilage,
Desolation in immaculate public places,
Lonely reception room, lavatory, switchboard,
The unalterable pathos of basin and pitcher,
Ritual of multigraph, paper-clip, comma,
Endless duplication of lives and objects.
And I have seen dust from the walls of institutions,
Finer than flour, alive, more dangerous than silica,
Sift, almost invisible, through long afternoons of tedium,
Dropping a fine film on nails and delicate eyebrows,
Glazing the pale hair, the duplicate grey standard faces.

Theodore Roethke

Comments

[Anonymous]

I had a stationery shop once.

[Anonymous]

I had a stationery shop once.

[Anonymous]

Cor ... that must have been jolly exciting. Any squirrels gnawing at your pens?

[Anonymous]

Yes, once. It died from lead poisoning not long after. I had it for breakfast the next day - Mavis made it into quite a nice omelette.