It’s just a tiny
Storage “nitch” in
Which I put stuff
Off the kitchen,

A tool kit and
A jumper cable,
An extra leaf for
The dining room table,

A doggy collar,
Leash, and whistle,
Replacement baggies
For my Bissell,

A vacuum hose
With a damaged end,
Old phone books, and
A plumber’s friend,

A six-pack cooler,
A plastic bucket,
An extension cord
With a 3-prong socket,

Some aerosols,
An oven rack,
And green tomatoes
In a paper sack.

Yes, I know it’s
Sappy nonsense
To rhyme about my
Closet contents.

Okay, I have this
Mild affliction,
A harmless
Poetry addiction.

Yes, Mother...
I’ve heard the curses
Hurled at boys who
Write in verses.

But, Mom... a mop, a broom
And dust pan does it.
That’s really all
That’s in the closet.