the trinkets of man

I rejoice at the trinkets of man

statuettes of saints and athletes

gnomes that protect their surroundings

funko pops of public figures

Alexa suggesting a barber

Gun-shaped whiskey-scented soap

a keychain of the ‘84 olympics

the receipt of a remorse-inducing purchase

a plastic plant that decorates the storefront

the bust of a famous thinker mass mass-produced

a wooden box that holds a bag of rice

the plastic of a package thrown away

the tool that smashes windows in a bus

is still unused

A sliver of a letter shred to fragments

the butts of half-smoked cigarettes in ashtrays

some chewing gum is stretched over a button

and a nickel on the floor for me to find

A backpack with a dog from a cartoon

a sticker with a joke nobody gets

a lighter passed a hundredfold, then stolen

a bullet never loaded, often pondered

the console that the children wished for

the styrofoam they didn’t, but received

the pouch that holds the charger and the cables

the television screen that sometimes works

a golden spoon of plastic at a party

a paper cup that spells a name correctly

a handkerchief for tears when children die

an empty glass of beer outside the door

I rejoice at the trinkets of man

I must document everything, always

all the things I forget don’t exist

and the things I don’t buy leave me empty