Tuesday, September 05, 2006

The bag I carry by Hannah Gerber


The bag I carry

No metaphor here,

I’m actually talking about the bag I carry;

far heavier than it needs to be,

terribly large, making my shoulders throb.

The bag I carry all over town

has the word ‘poetry’ on it,

and an image of a Pegasus,

and you must know

how much I like that.

Plenty of dimes and nickels

but no real cash,

a bottle of water for me

and a sippy cup for you,

three notebooks, gum wrappers,

hand sanitizers, crayons,

happy meal toys,

lip balms, sunglasses

and bags upon bags

stuffed full of cheddar goldfish

and vanilla wafers.

I also carry all that empty space

heavy with cumbersome wishes,

the absence of objects

we could pick up on beaches,

the heady possibility of mountains.

These things,

like invisible elephants

in the universe of my tote,

like play-dough cut-outs

of things we cannot yet touch.