A travel bag with change of clothes:
Each shirt-pant pair is sanitized
And rolled inside a plastic bag.
It doubles as a pillow too.
The travel bag is bubble-wrapped.
It doubles as a pinching bag.
A laptop bag with documents:
The latest latest test results,
The copies of the results past,
Certificates of surgeries,
Affidavits from notaries,
The Power of Attorney stuff,
Insurance and financial stuff.
Important docs have plastic sleeves.
The others are in folders, punched.
The laptop bag is waterproof.
It’s wrapped in plastic nonetheless.
Through sit-up nights and waiting days,
It doubles as a teddy bear.
A plastic bag with plastic bags:
The plastic is for rainy days.
(I walk or bike or take a rick.)
The plastic is for flooding floors.
(It happened once. I was prepared.)
The plastic is for keeping fruit.
(And later peel and seed and pulp.)
The plastic is for catching puke.
(My nausea’s a loyal friend.)
The plastic doubles as my soul.
(The one that I can rip to shreds.)