Returning from vacation, he finds a bird nest with 3 little eggs in the clothespin bag, so today he's draping the clothes over the line.
The ego wants to own the right answer. How many little squawks have we had?
"Cheryl! Use clothespins!"
"No, i don't need to."
How he hangs up clothes is none of my business, even if they are "my" clothes.
How i hang up clothes is none of his business, even if they are "his" clothes.
Here's a poem by e.e. cummings. Maybe we could substitute "hanging up clothes" for "poetry"?
"Poetry is being, not doing."
Poetry is being, not doing
If you wish to follow
even at a distance
the poet's calling,
You've got to come out of the
measurable doing universe into
the immeasurable house of being.
Nobody else can be alive for you -
Nor can you be alive for anyone else.
If you can take it -Take it and be.
If you can't—cheer up and go about
Other people's business and do or undo
til you drop.