Clutterbug Poem by Liilia Talts Morrison

How can I be a clutterbug
If Webster can't define it
How can I be a clutterbug
If flair is what I name it

Who would not grace their frig with plants
Fake flowers, shells and chains
If that would help and ease the dread
To find the stale chow mein

How dare they say I am a slob
Unique is what I am
Efficient, even somewhat green
For I eat from a can

Ah what a life to never sweep
By turning broom to sculpture
Bohemian, yes and nutty, no
A true artistic creature

How can I be a clutterbug
If Webster can't define it
How can I be a clutterbug
If flair is what I name it.