NaPoWriMo Day 24

 the hardboiled case of the detective of dreams

Sometimes, this life, this case,
this prompt, it's as hard to understand
as the flatpack instructions with a bit left over,
unlabelled and unknown.
That part looms large, a happy snaps out of focus photo,
your thumb after that bee sting .
The detective wakes up
in the morning and their mood is as
grey as 1983 in Birkenhead ,
the sun this grey dishwater rag.
There's no breakthrough
really, the revelation stalled as a broken horse.
The fall guy stutters a confession,a busted tap,
and any detective knows
the case is really all about yourself.
A spare room, full of files-
unsorted and unloved,
the terrible subconscious of Marie Kondo's nightmares

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