by Sherri Woodbridge

Created on: April 06, 2009   Last Updated: October 19, 2009

Made in 1997,

I was boxed

and sent with thousands of others

to the grocery store.

Sitting on the end of the checkstand

I was finally pulled out of the box

pinched open,

and used to carry

a dozen eggs

and a loaf of bread.

Later that day,

I was stuffed between

a wall

and the refrigerator

one side of me toasty warm

the other metal cold.

The next day

I was pulled out

and used to carry

a sandwich and an apple.

After lunch,

I was stuffed into a bag

stuffed with a bunch of other bags

just like me.

The next day we

were taken

to a store

that smelled musty

and filled with previously owned items

just like me.

The next day

I was stuffed with two pair of pants

and a plush purple bear named Ty.

I ended up on top of a washing machine,

never touched for three days.

The third day I was emptied

and stuffed into a plastic bin

with like looking bags as myself.

The next day

I was removed once more

and stuffed

with a pair of smelly shoes

and taken to school

by a 14 year old teen

with a runny nose.

I was stuffed into a locker

and removed later that day,

taken to the boy's locker room

where at last I was freed from the shoes

and tossed

into a large metal can.

The next day

someone poured a can of Coke on top of me,

a half-eaten cookie, a good sandwich,

some wadded up paper,

and a bottle of used up deodorant.

Later that day I was tossed into a large dumpster

and less than an hour after that

a noisy truck arrived

lifting me and everything else in the bin

high into the air

upside down

and falling

falling

falling

on top of garbage.

Smellier than those kids' shoes, mind you.

We roared through town

and down a road

where seagulls

soared and squawked and swooped

at anything that appeared

pleasing to their palette.

There were no next days after that

there were no later that days

no days to be used

or abused.

These days

my handles can be heard

rustling in the wind

whatever days a part of me is out in the air

and not tossed and turned

over and over,

here

or there,

by some noisy bulldozer

looking for work.

I've been here

over ten years now.

I don't think there's much hope

for usefulness anymore.

I'm not lonely

thousands of family and friends

reside here with me now.

There are no more

'the next days or

'later that days'

but there is forever.

I'll be here

forever.

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