Sack

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Home : 2001 : August : 1

Sack
By Maggie

Anne, I forgot I had the poem on my computer because I used it at the beginning of last year.
The Sack
What's in the sack? What's in the sack?
Is it some mushrooms or is it the moon?
Is it love
letters or downy goosefeathers?
Or maybe the world's most enormous balloon?
What's in the sack? That's all they ask me.
Could it be popcorn or marbles or books?
Is it two years' worth of your dirty laundry?
Or the biggest ol' meatball ever cooked?
Does anybody ask me, "Hey when is your birthday"?
"Can you play monopoly?" "Do you like beans"?
What is the capital of

Yougoslavia"?
Or "Who embroidered that rose on your jeans"?

No, what's in the sack? That's all they care about.
Is it a rock or rolled up giraffe?
Is it pickles or nickels or busted bicycles?
And if we guess it will you give us half

Do they ask where I've been, or how long I'll be stayin',
Where I'll be goin', or when I'll be back,
Or "How do?" or "What's new?" or Hey why are you blue?"
No, all they keep asking is, "What's in the sack?"
"What's in the sack?" I'm blowing my stack
At the next one who asks me, "What's in the sack?"
What?
Oh no. Not you too!