POEM: "Let There Be Junk"

Let There Be Junk

                              for Oliver Raw

To the true progress

The line in-and-out

A bee flies to the candle
A hand is upon the wheel

Let scattered indirection
Be your god's perfect lie

Every straight edge tries

A falling off to the side

Like a stamp lies in the atlas

The cat on top of the fridge

A glove on a snowbank

A sandal in the waves

All things lost someplace
Please let there be junk

That when it comes to us
We can relax & move fast.

© 2012 Rob Schackne