Second Hand Sentiments

 Give me

step ladders and terminaly ill light bulbs

Blinking to the painful end

Give me
the silenced song of my grandmother’s singer sewing machine
Your afflictions with the found and forgotten
Objects”” do not bleed

Though may break or rust

bodies
far more inconsistent
prone to collapse and lust
Best succumb to second hand sentiment

Distract

With the objective analysis’s of objects and their overriding objectives
Seek poetry in the junk heap
enlightenment in the metaphysical conceit
of a bulb with it’s a filament blown
the tragedy of a chipped seventies tea-set
Still pining for the lips it’s porcelain once kissed
Trace the journey of bed side lamps
Second- hand books
Mourn the laminated slavery of those bereft and belonging to public libraries
freedom curtailed by purple stamps
Misconstrue the tales of sepia soldiers
immortal now in moth-hall frame
Repair the unthreaded eyes of childhood teddies
Adopt a three legged chair
grant it a corner then name

Arrange antiquated cameras into Cycloptic monsters

Tossed tri-pods into tangoing spiders
Angry or amorous ”“connotation depending
fighting or fucking””denotation pending

Sifting solemnly through the forgotten fray

Thumbing the dewy decimal system with questions
filing answers under A.    
Then take a minute or two
To ponder the sadness of stopped clocks
broken watches
fish bowls of faulty time
wear them on our wrists
in the hope we can love the length of that immovable hour
interminable day
when in 1958 or 9
three seconds after twelve

Mr Smith took a winter swim
and much to his dismay
realised 
that his family heirloom was not water- proof
but made to throw away.