Baggage

History and all that clan malarky.

You can take it or leave it. 

I'd rather leave it if you don't mind.

Too cumbersome to carry about, 

like having to manoeuvre a four-tier wedding cake

whilst running for the bus in sky-high stilettos. 

Like wearing lip-gloss in a howling gale. 

It just gets irritating and awkward. 

Having to remember this and ponder on that, 

and try to work out who's who and who's not.

Who’s kith and who is kin, and what our forebears bore.

Best to leave that kind of baggage neatly stored 

in a hat box on the top shelf of the cupboard, 

or under the bed, or in the basement 

where it can argue with itself and collect dust. 

Meanwhile, I'm kicking off those glittery Louboutins 

and hailing a taxi.

Barefoot.