Secondhand Store

I’m like a bull in my own junk shop
stampeding the lost mementos and old souvenirs
with my hooves and horns of long-lost love.
The dust will settle
on these negotiable instruments of memory.
Some have been on sale for years,
cracked and broken,
left behind by people who passed by.
The hawker’s call could not drive up their bids.
So the goods are repacked in cardboard
and dropped off here before the landfill:
Curios of queens and Coca Cola,
of Kewpie dolls and vases,
mock jewelry, and puzzles -Some without all the pieces.
You point out that the gold paint is chipped
on the 25th-anniversary plate.
I’ll give it to you for half price
if you catch it before it breaks.

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