Greetings and Happy Monday. Here’s another bad poem to start your week off with a bang. That reminds me, many bangs will be heard this week as we celebrate Independence Day, or the Fourth of July on, well, July 4th, Thursday of this week, if you’re keeping track.
Remember to keep your pets safe. All that noise really spooks them. And if you’re shooting off Black Cat firecrackers or M80s, be safe out there and keep track of your fingers. Most importantly, I hope you have a thoughtful Fourth of July and take a moment to reflect on why we celebrate our Independence from the tyranny of England, and the freedoms and liberties our founders fought so bravely for.
In many respects, it feels like our freedoms are slip sliding away. All the more reason to take a moment to reflect on what is most important to you…whether that be family, friends, neighbors, baseball, burgers on the grill, or your good health. Whatever that means to you, cherish it and protect it and celebrate it.
So, today’s poem is really about nothing. A nothing that once was something. But you’ll get the gist. Readers here are highly intelligent, handsome, and filled with good humor. Enjoy this ditty about nothing.
NOTHING
by ZJ Czupor
Like a Jerry Seinfeld episode,
This poem is about nothing.
Actually, the only break in our dreary lives,
Happens in the middle of the week, on trash day.
We dutifully collect the used aspects of our consumerism,
Chicken carcasses, plastic containers, pizza boxes, and a lone sock.
Imagine, these whatnots and whatits were once an essential part of our lives,
But are now discarded without a second thought and hauled to the curb
Where they wait in a black bin for a whale of a container on wheels.
The cetacean monster lumbers ‘round collecting the excesses of our lives.
Eventually, the Leviathan growls to a stop and extends a mechanical arm.
Its vice grip dumps the bin and swallows the contents like the prophet Jonah.
Our dregs are driven away to a distant land we'll never see.
And for a fleeting moment, our trash bin is once more filled with nothing.
I like how it can be a metaphor for life.