National Poetry Month’s Poem-A-Day 30-Day Challenge: Day 6
GLOVE COMPARTMENT
I once used a common fork as a comb,
a book as a hot pad, a chair for a ladder,
my pants for a napkin, a wide plastic bin lid
as a makeshift umbrella, sweetened a rat trap
with a glob of Nutella, my coat as a pillow,
a tarp for a raincoat, a knife from my kitchen
drawer to tighten a screw.
Over and over the saying proves true:
necessity is the mother of invention,
as we use something in a way meant for another:
cotton swabs for ear plugs, newspaper for killing bugs,
the little compartment beside the front console
that’s crammed with a whole lot of everything but gloves.