I walk the street
where stolen things are laid out
careful rows of sunglasses and screwdrivers

like the way I used to sell my old toys
arranged on a blanket
to families on their way to the market

but this is a spidery place
that smells of sadness
and the sellers twitch and bend
huddled behind their wares
with a desperate need to float
one more time above their pain

I tell a woman and two men
that I am looking for my laptop

you’re just looking for a laptop
not yours, sweetie

the woman says with a wink
and a man whose pants are stiff with dirt
shows me in great detail
where the sellers gather
even though we can both see
it’s only a block away

I thank them
but what I wish I’d said was

you were sinking
but somehow
it was me you helped
to float.