I stumbled across this poem a long time ago, on the web site of a girl named Abby who lived in Tennessee. I liked it very much, and put a link to it from my web page. Some time later I discovered that Abby's page had disappeared. Anticipating such a catastrophe, I had squirreled away a copy of the poem on my hard drive. With the kind permission of the author I am making it available to the world here:

Ode to a Bottle
(Requiem for a Toe)

Bottle tall,
filled with drink.
Ring you up,
I will, I think.

Across the scanner
your barcode goes,
off the counter
onto my toes.

My eyes bug out
from the searing pain
and the customer asks,
"Did you break anything?"

"Oh, just my toe,"
I moan in reply,
"I didn't need that one,
I have left nine."

Three liters of ginger ale
on one tiny toe.
Back into my shoe,
toe will not go.


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