Pipe Cleaners

Written for:  Poetic Asides #403 – Write a poem about a useful item, though seemingly innocuous.

On occasion, Dad smoke a pipe.
I discovered that the white,
ropey stick could be coerced
into stick figures
or strange animal shapes.
Later on in life, my friend
Nick smoked a pipe, a different
type of scent from Dad’s
cherry. Four of us road-tripped
out to Montauk, Long Island
in the summer, and pipe
cleaners came along
for the ride. My friend
Kathy was wont to shape
the innocent cleaners
into nooses, and hang
objects from them. Now,
having matured, though slightly,
I use pipe cleaners to tie
up batches of fresh oregano,
drying them upsides down–
much like a noose.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are in the process of returning to New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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2 Responses to Pipe Cleaners

  1. Charley says:

    Maturing slightly…! Indeed. Nice write. I would’ve hid my pipe cleaners back in the day.


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