Ode to My Luggage

Oh, luggage, dear, luggage
where might you be?
I’m here for 8 days now,
and you’re not with me.
The brown, vinyl cover,
which caresses your frame
is a hazy, vague memory,
from whence we both came.
You hold my belongings,
my shoes and my clothes.
I can’t live without you,
but I must, I suppose.

The shirts and the blue jeans,
the belts and the socks.
Where have you traveled
and where must you be?
On this trip you’ve been
to more places than me.
To Paris? To Venice,
Japan and Bombay?
Are you down in Austrailia,
or in Mandalay?
Are you standing atop Gibralter,
the rock up in Spain,
Singing loudly, “the rain
stays mainly in the plain”.
My Kenneth Cole’s and Doc Martin’s
My Prada and 2Xist,
Please bring my belongings.
I’m getting quite pissed.
Oh luggage, I miss you.
Hear my plight and my plea.
Come find me in India,
in my room, safe with me.
Good night all………..Ciao.

By John Hess