One Man's Trash
I sit here at the swap meet on the bench Outside the flower stand. My cigarette dangling from my mouth, I watch all the people buy as much as they can. It's all shit they don't need. Buddha incense lighters, Smiley faces made out of clay. Then, as if anyone would want what they've got, They hurriedly scurry away. I sit here at the swap meet While the man in the cowboy hat sings the blues. He has no audience, only his karaoke machine And tatooed wife to keep him company amidst the empty Tables and chairs. Far in the distance are the make-up tables, Where the teenagers that are all in short shorts In winter go to get their beauty supplies. It sickens me as I wear my expensive Clinique. I sit here at the swap meet, as it begins to rain. I get up to go home, Carrying my Buddha incense lighters And my smily-faces made out of clay.Another old one Written August 19th, 2001 © on Aug 19 2001 02:38 PM PST, Katrina Armour 0 • 1
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"I sit here at the swap meet on the bench..."