01.11
If you ever find everything that I have ever lost,
please deliver it to someone I know.
Make a pile of the big things that I have lost
and put it next to the pile of the small things.
And count yourself lucky that I didn’t ask you why.
Count yourself lucky that the big pile didn’t even fall on you
and that the attendant who was shining his light on it
turned his face away from you when he felt that he had to cough.
And count yourself lucky, too, that when he showed you the small pile,
not one person in ten, who was taping my pictures to it,
asked you for the package of sodden ashes that it contained.
Nor for the package of deftly illuminated tiles that was being dropped without comment
into the elegant cubicles on the shoulders of the men by its crest.