Ode to a Bag of Spinach

Thou still unravished bag of health

Thou foster-child of hope and folly,

Garden Ruffage, we mourn thy death

A foliage tale of refrigerator colly

What leafy languish haunts about my lunch box?

What might have been? Or was it you who loth thy crisper home?

What mad game of hide and seek thy play?

Just to wilt in the crisper until garbage day.



Leah Douglass: I am a high school English teacher and a stand-up comic. Those two things are radically different and fundamentally the same.

Categories: Poetry

Daily Drunk

Shawn Berman runs The Daily Drunk. You can follow him on Twitter @Sbb_writer.

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