The front of the shop is ordinary,

An ordinary shop in a strip mall in Orange County.

Inside, it is larger than expected,

Shelves lining both walls seem to go on and on, deep.

It is hard to describe the items on the shelves.

Some are as finely cut as gems,

Others are seemed to be milled of metal,

Not precious, but industrial, responsive to the bit.

Each object is perfect in design and execution,

But what they are, what they are called,

And what use they may have, eludes me.

It is shop of objects formed for the sole purpose of existing,

Not to be owned or even admired,

But to seen for what they are, and what they are is the question.