Cardboard and poster board
yard sale signs at every intersection
and subdivision entrance
from here to the Maury County line,
these are the driveways where
we the middle class
set up our flea markets
and let total strangers
rummage through our belongings--
the discarded clothes, toys,
strained furniture,
books, music, and outdated lamps,
the artwork, dishes, and kitchen appliances,
clock radios, brass decorative items,
electronics, plaid throw pillows,
VHS movies, and exercise equipment
we couldn't live without and
MasterCard said we didn't have to.
Now other suburbanites, like homeless people,
are going through our trash and asking
does this work, and how much
will you take for this cutlery set
when the homemade sticker with the price
is right there on the damn thing
cause everybody wants to talk you down,
as if you should give a further discount for
something that is already on
your entire life's clearance rack
and you want to say, hell just take it, cause
you know she don't want it that bad, but
she's addicted to mediocrity like everyone else,
like the lady there in the aqua warm-up suit,
the one with board games in her arms
who said "I Do"
in the church to a guy she didn't really
have any use for, but was a bargain and
she had a place for him
next to the curio cabinet.
-- rLp --
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