The Contents Of My Pocket

Here lie the contents of my pocket.

There are 1.. 2..3.. 4, matches that I count. 

I use them to smoke when I want to pout.

I'll give them a rip and lose me an ounce. 

Oh, look and here a clove of garlic, 
(not for warding off vampires)
glad I didn't go to town, I know I would've turned scarlet. 

What is this, in here I feel..?
Something kinda sticky, oh! look, it's clear. 
A wad of plastic wrap; 
an important kitchen tool...
Or I suppose it could've wrapped a child to a booth's stool!

Hm.

What is this? 

Another thing? 

Getting a little absurd. 

Not feeling a thing custard. 

Really? A can opener... 
What uses do I have for this clunky thing?
I haven't any cans in my pocket, 

At least I hope not! 

These things have  dwelled much too long  in my pocket, 
obviously it was no where near the size of an eye socket. 

I'll be throwing them away or putting them to good use, 
but they won't be getting on the table, I'll pass on that noose.