I have made a life of litter –
cardboard and discarded gods
finials of castaway furniture
tin rusting on hillside rills
always looking down for coins
a house cluttered will stand
doors held open by Britannica Vol. 6
shopping cart drawers filled with underwear
rosary beads and bubble wrap
beauty combinatorial
“a sewing machine and an umbrella
on an operating table”
sauntering I find
an old mop’s head tilted
at the angle of crucified Christ
a tractor rusting in brush
next to a thousand acres of soy
before it was a garden
Eden was a forager’s paradise
nothing was ever broken
I stack up junk
like a second-generation star
gathering stuff until
it implodes to radiance
compression allows me
to spin faster and faster
transforming hub caps
into dishware
nothing is ever lost
I want to die in a junkyard
covered by wrecked cars
my contribution to the world
would be my skull lodged
in a glove box
I’d be rescued by someone
who likes to root
then stuck on a dusty shelf
a treasure with a candle inside
making statements to the world
— by Martin Settle
