there's a stray lentil
down by the skirting board near the door
the meal didn't miss it
it'll gather dust till i sweep the floor
nature makes more than it needs
and every season some get lost in the weeds

and there are spare men
eating alone in cafes around town
nobody misses them
they'll never get to pass their defects down
nature makes more than it needs
and every generation some get lost in the weeds