June Levy


Stuff


I have all the stuff of dreams.
Any third world girl might envy my sweet life.
Gathering genes pushed a search
for treasures,
housed with pride,
one might mistake for greed.

The things have not worn out,
I have.
Are they the pain my neck reports?
If rid of them
could the grave be for these burdens,
not for me?

I heard about a friend
whole children brought a dumpster
when she passed,
and all those demitasse were chunked,
tossed out with worn out underwear
and smelly gowns.

Submitted: Monday, December 02, 2013

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