Paper bag
Olive Anderson
Tightly packed in the cubby beneath the cash register
hundreds of us stacked on top of each other
every inch around us taken up
Crushed and folded up together in this tight space
ring, ring, ring
i listen to the repetitive sound and begin to feel the weight grow lighter
nearing the light I see a giant hand come down to grab me
kited up into the bright, I am roughly opened
loudness and beaming bulbs above are here to greet me
enduring the pounds of all the groceries, I struggle to carry
dreadful hours pass when finally all the weight I hold is no more
Packed and folded up, there I go again, back into the darkness
a different type of darkness
perplexed by my new surroundings and new smells, and new sensations I wait
everything is calm as I begin adjusting to the new blackness
roughly the bright beams hit me like a bolt of adrenalin, and another hand is here to grab me
barbarically my sides are torn apart, expecting my insides to gush out. I remember. I
am paper
gearing up for what happens next
I am placed out upon a wide wooden table
next to me lands cartoons of a newspaper
suddenly a great boom hits my middle
incapable of movement all I see is a large, round, orange thing
drenched with orange goo upon my crinkly face to the tips of my corners. Waiting for the
end. Finally, the weight is lifted off, leaving me with an autumn scent
Meanwhile, around me Calvin and Hobbs and the Black Friday ads are crumpled up
enough is Enough! But before I can protest I am crumpled up too.
- Author: Olive (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: July 27th, 2024 03:19
- Comment from author about the poem: A little acrostic.
- Category: Surrealist
- Views: 7
Comments2
Personification at its best in the first person with great imagery. Nicely done.
I don't trust the handles!
Cleverly done.
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