“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Threadbare Thingamajig
My container shows utility,
this for that;
hold this, carry me
like so and so-
Judging, by every day use
where I am thin
I am most transparent
all that you see through me
resists certain obscurity
You can clearly see
the stiff armored patches,
plates stacked precariously
porcelain worn and torn by utensils
in an empty cupboard.
I have no spares for repairs,
no double duty reinforcements
to protect and deflect the pointed
poisoned arrows aimed
at my limited capacity
for containing my
ultimate futility
I guess-
I don't know how this thing works.
Image By Sarah777 (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, described as a device for dunking scholars (a.k.a. Thingy Dunker).
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