Objet Trouvé

2007
1.
Yellow paper blackened by flies.
Vibrations indicate a breather.

2.
I’m mesmerized by objects
my neighbors throw away.

My trash is predictable.
Just once I’d love to discover something
I didn’t intend to leave on the heap,
something more intriguing than
lemon peels, coffee grounds.

3.
Where does one keep second thoughts?
Misgivings? As a girl, I found
a nest on the ground, and inside,
three cracked eggs leaking gold.
My mother’s insistent fingers
tightened on my wrist: There are things
we don’t touch because they are filthy.

4.
In my hand, the flypaper hums, holding on.

by Jayne Pupek

This poem first appeared in qarrtsiluni, 2007