I play with broken toys,
the dolls with missing eyes
and three wheeled fire trucks.
I don’t go looking for
broken toys
but they seem to find me:
orphaned teddy bears
with stained bellies
and torn seams.
I collect my broken toys
and refuse to honor
our disposable culture.
I play with my broken toys
enjoying them,
accepting their shattered dignity
and trying to see the grandeur
of their former nobility,
but I don’t fix my broken toys.
I can’t
because I’m a broken toy too.
I used to like to collect perfect shells and now I like them broken and much more interesting. I like old toys. I like that they find you.
ReplyDeleteThanks, I relate to the imperfection.
DeleteOh, this got to me. Beautiful, Mosk.
ReplyDeleteThanks, there are a lot of broken toys out there.
DeleteThis is excellent!
ReplyDelete10-Q! Mosk
DeleteI don't know this was you...bm
Deletefragile and true ~
ReplyDeleteYes, in a rare moment, I shocked myself. Thanks.
Delete