Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

The Purse

An inventory of my purse
would probably reveal
an odd accumulation that
you wouldn’t want to steal.

There’s grocery lists and dried up pens
and faded old receipts.
There isn’t even anything
in there that’s good to eat.

Dead batteries, torn envelopes
with scribbles in the corners.
It’s like a pocket version of
confessions of a hoarder.

And don’t forget the loose breath mints
in fuzzy, linty coats,
and programs for special events
that happened months ago.

Money? There may be a few loose
pennies in the lining
but nothing that would justify
the plotting or designing

required for pilfering my purse,
it’s actually quite huge.
To sneak away with it, unseen,
would really be a coup.

Cards I carry in my pocket,
I rarely carry cash.
William Shakespeare had it right,
‘who steals my purse, steals trash.’


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2 thoughts on “The Purse

  1. And, I wonder now who is going to now clean their purse?

  2. Aah, but what stories one’s trash can tell…

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