New verse from poet and playwright Renee Liang.

Contents of a mummy Tardis handbag

1 pair sparkly sneakers
1 small bag defrosted peas, rejected by non-health-conscious ducks in the domain
re
1 tube sunblock (unused)
2 battery packs for iPad
iPad, open at Lego Star Wars game
iPhone, open at Pokémon Go
wallet packed with unused coffee cards
sunglasses
black notebook originally for random poetry thoughts, with no poetry and a lot of shopping lists and meeting notes
1 fancy princess dress, stained with remains of beef nachos
1 monkey-puzzle leaf
data stick
sand
collection of too many random pens (which alternates with no pens at all)
collection of serviettes swiped from Koru Lounge in the sure knowledge they will be called into emergency service in the near future
car keys for two cars parked in different cities

From When We Remember to Breathe: Mess, Magic and Mothering by Renee Liang and Michele Powles