I live in a dumo

I live in a dump
Surrounded by towers of things
Teetering over me
All round
Piled high
No fixed places for things
Except On top each other
EVery surface mysterious under the weight of myriad colours
Crowded flowers on curtains
Next to Paintings of yellow and blue and red on pink walls
Behind red laundry fishnet baskets
Under clothes rising in soft insistent steps
Beside a table pink
Under piles of paper - competing towers of Pisa
Behind a chair
With jeans and jibba hanging off it
Across the desk pink
Under a world of things things things
Over me
I sleep on my face
And imagine a world
Where everything resides inside cupboards and drawers
And rooms neat
Nightmare perhaps