Garage Sale SaturdayI need to pay
my heart's outstanding bills
A cracked-up compass and a pocket watch,
some plastic daffodils
The cutlery and coffee cups I stole from all-night restaurants,
a sense of wonder only slightly used
a year or two to haunt you in the dark
For a phone call from far away
with a "Hi, how are you today?",
and a sign recovery comes
to the broken ones
A wage-slave forty-hour work week weighs
a thousand kilograms
So bend your knees comes with a free fake smile
for all your dumb demands
The cordless razor that my father bought
when I turned 17,
a puke-green sofa, and the outline too
a complicated dream of dignity
For a laugh, too loud and too long
For a place where awkward belong,
and a sign recovery comes
to the broken onesto the broken onesto the broken ones
For the broken ones
"Our Best Offer"