Space with Grace
Once, on a plane, we relaxed and we dined
As we sat in an armchair that really reclined.
Call me a crank, but I have to impugn
The petite bag of nuts tossed inside my cocoon.
In the grocery store, there’s some stress
That the managers ought to address:
It’s the thin plastic bags for the veggies
That give me emotional wedgies.
When I cannot pull them apart,
I’ll admit that I sometimes lose heart
And hurl them with snit-induced power
On the squash when it’s having a shower,
Then exit the store in a huff
Without buying a bit of the stuff.