Junk Drawer

March 29, 2026 Poet: Sallie Ehrman Artwork: Junk Drawer by Stanley Smith

Junk Drawer

Witness the Before photo. The After version

may be some time coming. Obviously the Reese cup

is the first thing to go     right into my mouth. And that dollar bill

and all those random coins. No brainer to snap those up.

I've been looking for my tape measures for weeks.

I remember misplacing the yellow one so I bought the silver one

and then another silver one and then little versions for the kids.

My friend who cleans for me once in a while must have had

a good laugh rounding these up and tossing them in here.

My granddaughter thrills at finding the white sunglasses

that belong on her bear stuffie. Likewise, my grandson,

when he uncovers the fake teeth. He had put them in my Nana mug

then set them on my nightstand last April Fools' Day. No household

requires this many pairs of scissors but all scissors are not created equal.

I collect them for my Cut-up Poetry classes. By trial and error

they wind up all over the house and then, this fabled drawer.

Easy enough to pick them out of the tangle and put them

in a shoebox. Glue sticks, watercolors, tape, oil pastels, markers,

popsicle sticks, back to the craft cabinet.

Multiple cheese graters, a rolling pin, hand juicer and whisk

are out of their element here amidst wires and 3-way plugs.

Stamps, sticky notes, paperclips head back to my desk. 

Since I stopped smoking, matches have accumulated. I need

to buy some candles or roast marshmallows or give these

to my neighbor in support of his bad habit. Incomplete

decks of cards naturally end up here but I move them

to the craft space for art purposes. Batteries, lint roller, 

lip gloss (too many), Barbie doll probably worth a fortune,

rubber snake, pink unicorn and readers that belong to my ex.

And look, there's the Instamatic camera we used on our holiday

in Hawaii, right before he left me for the barista at Starbucks.

Those mannequin arms look a lot like hers. I hurl them into

the garbage bag at my feet and slam the drawer shut. That's enough

life changing magic for one afternoon. My apologies to Marie Kondo.