Tuesday, 18 March 2008

Evolution of the suitcase

The gravel grinding chimes
Of the visitor's suitcase
Speak louder than a doorbell.

She leans over it--the suitcase
The last of her home
At just the right angle to suggest the
Exhaustion of trekkers who never come back from Everest.
Even if they come back

They blow their loved ones a kiss
From the abyss
Then they jump from the twentieth floor.

Or porters in a Neapolitan station
Smiling for your tip
Drip dragging with sweat
As they drag scuffed faux leather
Lives set.

There is no need to push it like a porter.
Your parents take care of their daughter.
You are not putting bananas on a cargo ship.
You haven't just moved
Your entire family
From India in a cardboard box.

Read the manual.
Use the retractable handle.

But it's such a Japanese thing to do.
If you pushed it any other way,
It wouldn't be you.

Hard bright shiny plastic
Soft inside and so fantastic.

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