Uncle Bob's Words

Words, poetry, stuff like that

What is all this shit?

What is all this shit?

I’m in a former tobacco warehouse,

Now a crowded indoor flea.

I walk down an aisle

Between rows of tables

Littered with crap and kitsch –

All at reasonable prices.

The last gasp of the past.

Mono no aware.

The pathos of things.

For sale. Please.

 

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