你的垃圾 我的诗

Everyday something old is abandoned at the void deck and bulky refuse bin: television sets, disassembled cupboards, stuffed toys, blankets and bags, retired gods and fairies, and today, a dreamy plant.

But just as soon as they are abandoned, it is not unusual that they find themselves picked up again.

It is a place of transit in the neighbourhood, a point of exchange, a gateway for things old and somewhat new.