i bought you because
you reminded me of the
granite-carved guide lights

which illuminate
the pathways and gateways of
gardens in japan.

you weren’t pricey,
plastic instead of granite,
little solar cells.

you weren’t too bright,
just enough to cast a glow
on the path out front,

to guide us at night,
coming home in a taxi,
walking down the street.

i knew you’d get nabbed.
at some point all things do here
if they’re not chained down.

you were placed, not chained,
beckoning kids, drunks and jerks
passing in the dark.

you were so fleeting,
a month of brightness, then gone,
stolen for no point.

people really suck.