To fill the empty space
Stripping the surface of dead wood, rusty nails
Deconstructing shapes of its former function
Form or function?
Why can’t he just have it all?
The scrapped palette had been useful for carrying heavy loads had broad shoulders and big hips like a wooden workhorse
Now found free in a heap behind the dumps-her with the other big trash
Bare bones, a wing of stringy plastic clinging by a staple in the breeze
No longer carrying the weight
Destined to become a trendy accessory
A fashionable table from where he’ll feast.