Eighteen Pieces of Furniture

What do you keep? Then, what do you leave behind?

Eighteen pieces of furniture in the basement.
Eighteen pieces of a life left behind
In the musty basement of a prep school dorm.

There is a fridge, used for three years now.
There is a beanbag, donated
To poor,
Beanbag-less me by some senior.

There is a plastic drawer
Filled with band-aids never used,
And rusting letters from home.

There are books,
Upon books,
Upon books.
I should throw some out,
But they’re really kind of beautiful.
Things wouldn’t be the same without them.
So I won’t.

Crates,
And shelves, and
Plastic boxes,
All rotting away.
Lonely-like.

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