Life is dumpster diving:
trying to find the good stuff...
trying to avoid sinking.
Sometimes it's slim pickings.
A sea of seamless, seemingly endless obstacles,
of séances and sendoffs.
We tread lightly, lest we lose our footing.
Love is the sought after, the useful, the satisfying:
the heavy bits stuck in place that help prevent sinking.
Love is the unexpired box of pasta on top:
already wonderful but
exalted by circumstance and
fully appreciated in light of
If that doesn't sound pretty, it shouldn't.
The smell is always there.
Love is a clothespin for your nose.
Life is dumpster diving and
love is a weird poem written on the back of a coffee-stained city map.
It doesn't have to make sense;
you'll know what you're looking for when you find it.
... and then there was stuff.
stuff and things.
- When You Find It