{the #MoSt Poetry: 13}

Prompt #13 (for December 27th): Think back to a time in your childhood—or in the years since—when you collected something. (I pretty much went from putting together AMT brand car models to stockpiling record albums.) Maybe you were a philatelist, a numismatist, or cartophile (stamps, coins, baseball cards, respectively.) Whether it was these, or dolls, beer cans, license plates, or something less tangible (like regrets), write a poem in which the speaker is obsessed with her/his/their collection. Allow these objects to appear and reappear as often as possible.

lost & found

everything I lose, I find eventually —
the pot-bellied baby rounds childhood’s base
lugging a pound or two, snatched
from too-strict parents, and then
freedom begets the horror of
the Fresher Fifteen. no worries, of course — Rx,
a piece of See’s and Nik’s aerobics course, twice of day
the cure was more fun than the cause, but
everything I lose, I find eventually.

those first shaky years of marriage — rabid-in-laws,
and hostile natives, a speck of pepper
in a sea of salt
comfort food became
the only one telling me The Truth
but its croon was subjective
and everything I gained

I lost, eventually —
fasting, circuit training, ICU —
too much time in high, white beds
had I done this
to myself?
learning the names of my maladies
and stunned, I am
finding my balance and

everything I lose, I find eventually
maybe this time, I’ll find my feet.

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