I Miss Goodwill

I miss goodwill
I used to go there a bunch
It was like my Church
I loved shopping there
I believe it gave me a will that was Good
To be poor and pretend you are poor
It's satisfying
Poverty's wonderful defense mechanism
But I can't be poor
Because I can afford everything I need
Everything I need not evil
I guess
I liked so many things about goodwill
Because I virtually lived there
It feels productive to push a shopping cart
Though it's not
But a shopping cart full of goodwill
Redistributes the wealth of living
In some pretty good ways
I liked to see toys from my childhood
Reappear like ghost toys
Nobody makes anymore
The Six Million Dollar man
is now only a quarter
Weebles wobble forever
Just like suns
I liked talking to goodwill cashiers
Most assume are terribly broken people
Or maybe it's "shortchanged"
Which would you rather be?
Incomplete through erosion
Or incomplete at birth?
Discuss
I'm pretty sure I was more broken
Than all those cashiers
One had been a physicist
I'm not making this up
Although it sounds like it
The guy really had been a physicist
Worked at Three Mile Island
That almost killed everyone in 1979
I could just tell it was truth
You just know these things
Bone sense
Something terrible had happened
Which I won't share in a poem
Because I consider it personal
When something terrible happens to you
Sometimes you end up in goodwill
Sometimes you end up with goodwill
Talking to people
In goodwill and it's wonderful
It's not a terrible thing
To become afraid of your own evil
And stop recycling it
Recycle by going into goodwill instead
This is better strategy
Despite what people think
When you work in goodwill
You are a goodwill worker
You can nearly die in a plane wreck
Of bad human intentions
And all that burning jet fuel of emotion
But get lucky
And end up with so much goodwill
You don't know what to do with it
Selah
They put out couches where you can sit and read
Scary couches but so what
Although I don't think that's the reason
They really don't care if you do
I am fascinated with the tchotchkes
The tchotchkes of goodwill
Are most affecting
When they come from someone recently dead
One afternoon an entire collection
A hundred miniature owl figurines
Will show up and go on shelves
And you will know to say Oh
And know an Owl Person died
Still, it breeds mystery
When you die
You should die into goodwill
Because
People may find some use in you
And ooh and aah
Over the fragments
You left to goodwill
And that funny word Them