Thursday, November 4, 2010

November 4: containment

From (

"For today's prompt, write a containment poem. There are a lot of ways to contain things: Jails and prisons contain people; zoos and aquariums contain animals; and closets contain our clothes (and other "baggage"). Your poem can be about the actual container, the containment of things, or even the attempt to break free of containment. Of course, any other creative interpretation is encouraged as well."

Letter written from a dumpster in the Trader Joe's Parking Lot

I could wax the insides like an old wood floor
and move in here but there is no cooktop.
but what I wanted to tell you is:
there is a lot of food here. Much of it delicious
and barely bruised.

oranges, wilted flowers, crackers,
slightly mis-treated maple syrup.
in answer to what we will feed the cats:
sardines and dented cans of tune.

Don't fret, love.
We can quit working
so long as they don't upgrade this metal
with a crushing device to deter
discard lovers like us.

1 comment:

T-bone said...

A containment poem indeed

The parking garage looks different after you've been in it for two hours while your four-year-old sleeps. There is drool running down her mouth. You are surviving off of the water you packed earlier for the aquarium, all of those fish, not so interesting as the map to your four-year-old, but to the fish, you are that lady in the black fleece thinking about how best to avoid the gift shop on the way out. Where is that locker key again? It's great to look at all of those fish, so neat and easily identified with their little plaques. Really, they should have nothing to worry about like sore butts and unreliable wi-fi under all of the concrete of the hotel in the sea of cars.

Sent from my iPhone