her bed isn't just a
rest stop
more like a flea market or maybe
just a yard sale
(collections of things no one
knew had ever existed)
books line shelves at her sleeping head
favorites too dear to put on the
bookcase
or maybe just old ones too
boring
to bother with
drawers with her
pajamas
underwear
unmatched socks
handles half-detached
losing any splendor the brass
once held
more shelves full of knickknacks
a junk drawer of sorts
strange jewelry boxes with no
jewelry inside
things to keep at hand and things
to remember by
a game boy and games
a collection of photo albums
of course – hairthings aplenty
on top the shelves even more wonders
a gumball jar
(homemade and
empty)
trophies
a picture frame
lotion and trinkets and
a candle too
not to mention the alarm clock
which always goes off at six ten
exactly
(though hardly needed to
get her up in the p.m.)
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