one's junk
another's treasure
objets trouvés
like a dream
of rags to riches
the cardboard box to the penthouse
from the grimy gutter
to a pearl platform
in a gallery
objets trouvés
the fragments
the playthings
once combined
through games and play
becoming fine art
becoming statements
becoming
something
more than mere
junk
i wish
these objets trouvés
were prettier
more interesting
things
to play with
i wish
i possessed the wit
and creativity
to form
these objets trouvés
into real
works of art
i wish
these objets trouvés
were grandma's necklaces and bracelets
instead
of the rotting
stuffed & mounted
family cat
from up
in
the attic
interesting
sometimes
yet a morbid thing
to bring out
for the holidays
for both of us
i wish
these objets trouvés
were prettier
more interesting
things
for all of us
to play with
so sometimes
i salvage
though different
scrapheaps
different dumpsters
different attics
and basements
and sheds
and flea markets
and second-hand shops
searching for
some different
less morbid
less self-centered
less pitiful
objets trouvés
but it always
comes back
to the same
i wish
these objets trouvés
were grandma's
dusty
discovered diary
documenting
aspirations and triumphs
instead of her decades
of defeated dreams
and abuse
i wish
these objets trouvés
were the discovery
of great-grampa's
old navy uniform
and medals
instead
of his white hood
and robe
i'm sorry
for what these
objets trouvés
are
and what i can't help
but make of them
but i'll keep trying
keep looking
for some new junk
as inspiration
and material
for better art
mrobins71 