This was my first ever poem. I made $400 on it. Live and learn.
Not so bad for a fifteen minute exercise in writing really crappy poetry.
Oh, zip lock bags! The sweet plastic.
Like duct tape, they are matrix of life.
I use them to store lots of stuff,
from AA batteries to sugar.
When I bring lunch to work, I use zip lock bags,
Even to pack pasta with lamb stew.
(Since the freaking lunch boxes at home are all gone).
I take a dozen with me on every trip.
From Cordilleras to Sierra Nevada mountains,
From Xi’an to Barcelona, zip lock bags travel with me.
They protect route descriptions from rain.
They hold a first aid kit (of sorts)
Since I never bothered buying a proper bag.
They keep food from evenly spreading across my backpack.
And they hide stinky French cheese from US customs.
(always guarding our Great Nation from corrupting influences and other foods).
They are as annoying as they are helpful.
Zippers randomly open, and zipper heads fall off.
I put them back on and close the zippers
But the process repeats itself.
Food spreads across the backpack and
All my clothing smells like French cheese.
To the delight of US custom dogs.
There is no alternative and I use them.
But, I can never predict what they are going to do.
It’s like with women.
Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist.
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