Toys
by JD DeHart
I have collected them,
arranged them all. When
I was a child they were
colorful actors in an ongoing
narrative. I would construct
reality in small plastic
sections.
Of course, now I have put
the toys away in place of other
larger, louder, often less amusing
bits of plastic and metal.
I swipe my toys in credit
card machines, mindlessly
travel from A to B in larger
metal structures than the ones
that zipped across my kitchen
floor.
The narrative is larger, but
now enacted with tools that
are remarkably similar.