One man's trash is Davy Rothbart's treasure. The editor of Found magazine has been collecting trash for years, elevating the crumpled love letter, the doodle and to-do list into something worth savoring. The notes may be written on insignificant scraps of paper, but they often provide a compelling peek into someone else's life story.

For example, consider this note Rothbart found under the windshield wiper of his car one night:

"Mario, I f---ing hate you. You said you had to work then whys your car HERE at HER place?? You're a f---ing LIAR. I hate you I f---ing hate you. Amber P.S. Page me later."

You've gotta love the mix of anger and desperation - not to mention the expressive word choice. And there's more where that came from.

Now, Rothbart offers a collection of new finds and old favorites in a paperback that will break your heart, spur a laugh and almost always leave you wishing for the end of the story.

Found: The Best Lost, Tossed, and Forgotten Items From Around the World (Simon & Schuster, $14) is filled with the castoffs of everyday life that, as it turns out, aren't so everyday after all.

For example, there's the typewritten note dated 1928 in which James asks Mildred whether she loves him. If not, he writes, he'll be going into the priesthood and won't be allowed to see her for 10 years.

There's the note with "WARNING" written in big letters on top, followed by: "The iguana is loose of the porch. Before entering, make d--- sure that she is not going to bolt out the door when you open it . . . "

And you can't help but love the kid who failed his math test but should have earned an "A" for the heartfelt poetry he composed when his classmates were figuring out torturous logarithms:

My name is Aaron

I'm in Algebra Two

I sit in class for an hour

and (indicipherable) nothing to do.

What Killan is talking about

I guess I'll never know

But its stuff I should've learned

A long time ago

. . . My hope of passing

Is no hope at all

I just stare at the board

And watch my grade fall."

As the book proves over and over, sometimes a person can be lost - and found - at the very same time.