Where the lost-and-never found items go?
I am nearly convinced they somehow find their way together,
Magically, and live in a lost commune:
The socks that will never see their match again
Thousands of keys, lockless
Pieces of childhood memories, too early to be remembered,
Too simple not to be forgotten—
Unimportant, replaced.
All the pens that disappeared from your bag
Important documents that weaseled their way out when you weren’t looking
Schedules, and credit cards, old photographs, one winter glove
(because you can’t lose both, that would be too practical),
earrings,
various pieces of small plastic items, and Tupperware tops (honestly, where do those go!?) those fantastic sunglasses from last summer
that favorite old sweater
lunch money, and t-shirt money, dues,
date money, birthday money, wallets, spending money, and giftcards
(maybe money should get it’s own “where have you gone” poem)
paperclips and staples
thumbtacks and highlighters
old emails you though you saved
and that paper you most certainly wrote but cannot figure out where you stored it
hundreds of dice from countless board games
monopoly pieces
and cards, but never enough to make a whole deck
all that useless material you crammed for all those tests
half-remembered faces, and half-hearted stories of history,
old cassette tapes
and coins you once collected
And I wonder if this “lost and never found” commune is bustling with activity,
covered in “Found” posters—the opposite of here, the opposite of us.
Found: another sock, looking for its mate,
or maybe:
Wanted: a lock for a lonely diary key. Call 519-7780.
I imagine the rare occasion when a match is found!
The commune will probably throw a party
And I bet if you’re in the laundry room and listen hard enough,
Or somehow manage to squeeze between the seat and the console in your car
You can hear the distant cheering
Each lost item celebrating a match
Breathing in the hope that tomorrow will be their own lucky day
And one of us will lose the exact thing they need.
