lined up in a row just like ducks,
are so many happy, shiny products
that soon lost their shimmer,
lost their shine and glimmer,
and then what is to be done
when all usefulness is gone
but to trot them out on a weekend day
and try to sell them all away
to whomever is in need
or whomever is desiring
of something deemed to be junk
of something that’s been in a trunk,
locked away from the sun’s light
perhaps in an attic closed up tight,
and that will someday face the same fate
passing to the next who thinks it’s great,
only to be sold on again
and again and again and again.