Plastic baskets of bondage
Smelly hampers of hopelessness
The whirling, swirling void
Swallows our outer shells of conformity
Before the malevolent hum of the dryer
Gases them into submission
My failure smells like fabric softener
I do not want the salmon
But I buy it
I do not want the salmon
But I encase it in plastic
I do not want the salmon
But I freeze it
I do not want the salmon
But I defrost it
I do not want the salmon
But I cook it
I do not want the salmon
But I eat it
I do not want
the salmon
I wish I could be encased in jello
Like a pineapple chunk, or mandarin orange
And view the world through bright cheery colors
All harsh edges erased
But then someone would get hungry
And ruin my world
And then I'd have to see the world as it is
Plus, I'd be sticky
