The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest – The Garage Sale


Tables roughly set,

All the junk I can find

Set out haphazardly

A mad woman’s breakfast, you might say.

At dawn, they begin to assemble

The junk dealers, predators

Looking for a free bargain,

If they can get it.

Haggling over the silliest things

Want something for nothing

Watch for the pilferers.

Grandma’s old vase, cracked and crazed

Still partially covered in sixty years of dust

Has a presence it hasn’t entertained in so long

The buyers understandably ignore it

I was thinking it would go in a flash

But no at days end it sits alone on the far table

Just as its always done,

Neglected, lonely, making a statement

No idea what,

“Grandma had poorer taste than I thought?”

No matter what we got rid of stuff

People happy to pay to take away my crap.


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12 Responses to The Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest – The Garage Sale

  1. Sadje says:

    I wish I can sell my useless junk. Good one!

  2. One man;s junk is another man’s treasure! Being a seller at a car boot sale, I noticed a woman walking round with a curtain pole. I told her I had rings that would match, and made a sale!

  3. Strangely, this was almost too good to be terrible. 🙂

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