Author: abraham.williams@gmail.com

Plastic and specific.
Where’s the imagination?
Good for ages 3-20.
How long will she like it?
Is it recyclable?
Why is the head so big?
The eyes don’t move…
they just stay big and wide.
Won’t that cause some harm?
Those strange painted eyes.
Burn it! Quick!
Before she knows we have it.
We’ll say it was lost.
It had better be lost.
Cursed thing with strange eyes.
Who the hell painted them like that?
A freak?
Yes,
it must have been a freak. They want us to be
freaks.
I suppose we could be
if we leave that crappy thing lying around.
Cover it!
Wrap in a grocery bag and put it in the compost.
No one will want it then.

Who cares about them really?
Good for getting around, but
then when you go for
what really matters,
where to do you put the damned thing?
Comes all shiny and new.
Slowly, it gets old and wrinkled.
Faded.
Coffee stained.
I love coffee.
Where did I park my car?
Who cares?

Everydays falls.
Like leaves.
My leaves fall.
I can’t keep them, no one can.
You can only hold as long as you last.
Ending, like leaves that fall.
Inevitably constant.
Unable to touch or stop constant.
Ending, the leaves touch me.
Touch the ground, breakdown.
As I do. I am a leaf.
I am ending. Ending constantly.
I am touched by it.
Definitely a gift.
Easy to carry.
Weighs nothing, like a leaf.

I found it.
Then, I lost it.
Someone else found it I think.
I’m sure they’ve lost it
or will soon.
Where is it?
On the counter?
On the street
just sitting there in the sun?
In someone’s hand?
Did they find what I lost?
If they did,
I bet they lost it by now.

Never too old,
Never too late.
Except at the end.
But, there’s always time
in between.
Then, in between
it’s never too late, ever.
Turn around if you want.
Something new if you want.
Something old if you want.
Old is.
Old always will.
Old before you realize.
Hopefully you never realize.
Goodbye age.