On Buying the Dead Man’s Toys

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In the basement of a ham radio guy
Late of this world.
Tons of techno-fantasy equipment line the shelves
And litter the floor.
Many things set up just so, many sat
Where they were dropped
When they arrived.
from another dead man’s basement?
Years of Christmas joys and must-have toys.

The sad wife looks on dazed
Unblinking, unknowing
Of just how much
Of her old friend is lying here.

So I’ll cart off this booty
This sad largess.
Drag it back to my cave
Where it will line my shelves
Of must-have things.

He took others, I take his, others will take mine;
A Danse-Macabre:
Modern life’s eternal, infernal
Material masturbation.

And who will take the wife?
Could not she and I
Live on some deserted farm
With just enough food and love
To live the perfect life?
No tools no toys no hard things to
Fill the endless moments between
Everyday
And those of purest Passion.