the things physical we could not live without,
the objets d'art that decorate the tapestry of
the primary bones of our existence

each of us differing,
each of us, a different list,
utilitarian is beauty,
thus our individuation
distinguishing and distinguished

a trash can,
purposed for our wastrel wastage,
and yet, beloved by waves of utilization and
discard
only after much  usage, kept nearby as a token of
our appreciation, only to be dumped unceremoniously
when the
memories grow overly fulsome

Why you think I reference the common kitchen garbage?

**No, no! why it is our brain,
that be cleansed nightly,
leaving only the wisps of life aprior,
that reruns in wisps, only sometimes,
for better or for worse,
recycle-able

one step outside
and thousand thoughts in my head
five feet distance to maintain
the mask, check
the gloves, check
can I breath, I don't know
my heart pounding, yes
it is crazy, I know
but paranoia won't go
Empty streets, here I come
got to stock up the essentials