Garage Sale. Saturday.I 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. Or a place where awkward belong, and a sign recovery comes to the broken ones. To the broken ones.To the broken ones. For the broken ones. Or best offer.
Garage Sale. Saturday.I 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. Or a place where awkward belong, and a sign recovery comes to the broken ones. To the broken ones.To the broken ones. For the broken ones. Or best offer.