Some Little things

On this table before me lie so many little things

Some of them seem important

And some just take up space

Have I just taken up space?

Have I been important?

Who asks these kinds of questions?

Just would be poets

 Not real people

 Real people do things

 They don’t sit and look at wires and clips and little bottles and empty cigarette packs

But all these things fool me into thinking I’m worth a damn

That I’m some sort of artist

Real people do things

What Have I done?

Lately, I mean

It’s time to start doing things

Stop drinking she said

I guess that’s something to be done

But maybe there are more little things to look at

Maybe there are more wires and clips to be considered

Maybe even the dust is worth more than what she wished for me

Maybe even this stale air is of more value

She seems to be asking a lot of me