Plastic

The first of many [hopefully more than one] science fiction monologues. This one in the form of a persona free verse poem, since I wrote it as an assignment for my creative writing poetry class.


Plastic

Back when I was your age, things had weight.
You know what that means?
None of this polymer crap.
Damn shame you gotta grow up
usin’ nothin’ but synthetics.
I remember, my mother
she had this big cabinet in the living room
made of real glass – wouldn’t let me go near it.
When she would curl her hair,
I’d sneak into the living room
just to press my cheek against the it.
The room could be fine but that glass stayed cool,
like it was cold where it came from.
Anyway in that case she had a real tea set
made of “porcelain.” Ha!
That stuff was even more fragile than the glass.
Things were different back then, see.
Me and your great aunt Ava,
well she used to make me play tea party
when mom was out.
Me, her, and all the stuffed bears.
Those were like toy animals
made of cloth, filled with cotton.
Real old fashion stuff!
‘Course we never actually filled the teapot,
just pretended to pour it out
pretended like the animals wanted some,
too, like they were civilized.
Back then we did that all the time.
No holo’s or Virtual,
we just imagined things were real.
Like when they took my toy car –
the red one they stopped making the year I was born –
Corvette, that was it. Anyway
after that I had to play with just the memory of it …
you know what I mean?
Yeah, metal was the first to go.
My red car, mom’s gold earrings,
they let ’em keep their wedding rings at first,
but they took uncle Ethan’s tractor right off.
Orange like they still make ’em
but the whole damn things was steel!
Just a few plastic knobs and parts but all authentic.
Thing must have weighed a ton!
But we didn’t argue with ’em –
takin’ our stuff.
Back then everyone wanted to chip in …
“Support the Cohort” and all that.
We all had to sacrifice and that was the norm,
‘course had we known what we know now …
Anyway, I still got a couple o’ things from the old days,
though most of it’s gone now. Taken away at some point or nother.
Remind me later and I’ll show you a real leather belt –
‘course animal rights would go crazy nowaday.
Not only that, thing’s got a metal buckle on it.
Probably the only scrap left in this whole town.

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One response to “Plastic

  1. Roy

    Damn good! Love this stuff…

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jedd goble

Cinematographer of Two Story Films. I'm passionate about film and the way that stories can shape the world and change our perspectives.

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