Later

I have an old umbrella with a busted hinge. There's rust and it creaks when I walk, I still get a little wet. I have several drawings an ex-girlfriend made me. I have a drawing an ex-girlfriend's sister made me. I have a dirty, sticky pair of headphones somewhere in one of these drawers. I have a pair of pants I stopped wearing after I washed them with a candle in the pocket. I still don't remember what that candle was doing there.

I have crusty shoes with holes and slashes and when I put them on they hurt. I have every tee I bought through school growing up. I have a line of figurines on my bedroom windowsill that gather dust and do not move, preserving their patches forever. I have a sweater vest still it its original packaging. It will come in handy one of these days.

I have an old printer that sits in the corner of my office, next to my new printer that I use daily. Furthermore, I have an old laptop in my top drawer. Sometime I will bring it in so everything can be taken off it, if it's not too late. My old desktop, that's in the garage in a box marked LATER. In that box are cords and wires and connectors, an old VCR, and some videotapes. The first video I ever owned, The Adventures of Robin Hood, the box shredded, the corners held together with masking tape.

I have old torn bed sheets. I have my father's bag. I have my grandfather's hat. I have an unframed Warhol print sitting on my desk still it its original packaging. I have books on magic and books on how to play blues guitar, I have more books I haven't read than books I have. I have your picture here somewhere, of the night we danced. None of this bothers me. I have time.