In My Bedroom
Inside my bedroom you can see
the treasures that belong to me:
a busted game and crumpled box,
some piles of smelly shoes and socks,
some art class projects here and there
with glittery spaghetti hair,
the model airplane with no wings
is by the banjo lacking strings,
a pumpkin pie I half enjoyed,
a tennis racquet I destroyed,
and on the doorknob, underwear.
(Last Halloween I left them there.)
Beside the broken baseball bat:
a basketball that’s mostly flat,
a can of worms, a rubber snake,
a plate of moldy birthday cake,
a wrapper from a candy bar,
a single glove, a broken jar,
some gunk, some grime, goo, glop, and glook
are on the bookshelf – take a look!
Un-seeable beneath my bed –
a pile of stones, a mouse named Fred.
There’s sixteen stacks of magazines,
and seven magic jumping beans.
Oh sure, my room’s a messy place,
but it’s my perfect treasure space,
and living in this total mess…
well, that’s my key to happiness.