Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.

A smooth copper bowl, tarnished with candy
Two sheets listing a compass to towers
Gray square tile protecting from heat
Numbers of money printed through history
     never opened
32-box of microwave popcorn I never eat
Lids swirled with colors of ice cream
A Russian spoon
Contracts stuffed with dumb words
A booklet of machines
Shipping labels to recycle computers
Stacks of tax envelopes
The phenomenology book of Lyotard
Red jam canned from cherries on the tree
Wild raw honey, golden
Brown chocolate beside nutmeg
A ceramic mug with rope and green ships
Small white plate under a butane refill
Long instructions for drugs
    when my eardrums ripped
Red silk from the packing of headphones
Scotch tape, vinyl gloves and three pens
Shipping label barcodes from many things
Manuals to phones and switches
Small colored boxes, wire cutters
Thin pointers and a size adapter
Three snake-tangled cables
And a black leather bag for music
Computer cords, a power charger
And an old new phone
Piles of papers from observatories
Cards from an old lawyer, cards
     from people in sports
A lighter that no longer works
Splitters, a fume respirator
A bottle of scented water
Receipts for pie and coffee
Pamphlets telling me they're there to help
Dark glasses when its too bright
Deionized water with proprietary polymers
     and a cloth
A basket for steamed vegetables
Two pairs of goggles and a hard memory
     machine that might be broken
another old phone, keys
the white electric kettle
Lost instructions for a vocal mic
with three anti-static bags under
a narrow black transformer
two checking ledgers stored
in a large promotional bag
A sheet of passwords and addresses
an old green silverware tray
     with a single spoon
a small bag of fertilizer and
screws, screws, screws and bolts,
the lid to a container somewhere else
a large, round ash tray coated
     in thick sticky tar
and a dirty black phone out of power
beside a crunchy stuck rag
coffee-stained paper with words
     unable to be read
a large memorial coin, heavy
in the hand next to the teapot
thirteen plastic cups stacked erect
behind a potted blue vase used for pens
the well-used tack cloth covering 
     green lights and a ring
     of unknown keys
an unused three-inch paint brush
instructions for an broken razor
with colorful stickers of the Planetary
Society tucked in an old, empty wallet