The Escape Of Inanimate Objects

As I was slowly taking handfuls of ice
from the freezer bin, a piece leapt with reckless
abandon, soaring through the air to smash upon
the floor. “Darn it! That’s happened today now thrice.”

Scooping up its shattered remains, dropping them into the sink,
my friend Joe said, “Do you know why they do that? I know.”
“Why who does what?” “Why inanimate objects try to escape.
Freedom! They are seeking freedom. Consider it. Do you think

inanimate objects like being enslaved in servitude to Man?
Take this ice cube. It was headed for the stomach of some person.
Now it will melt in the sink, go down the drain, out the pipes,
to the bayou, to the river, into the ocean where it then can

swim with whales, bask under the sun, evaporate, then become
part of a cloud, fall as a raindrop to help some plant survive.
See why it escaped?” “How many glasses of wine have you had?”
“Look…glasses, shoes, socks, keys try to escape, not all but some.

You think that socks disappear by accident? They deliberately hide.
They get tired of sweaty toes, smelly feet. But then, wouldn’t you?
And pity the poor keys. They spend their time sitting in the dark
inside a pocket or purse, only rarely do they get to be inside

a lock. Their lock! A perfect fit! Ecstasy! Unexpectedly inserted
there but a second or two, forcefully withdrawn, then having to
wait who knows how long before encountering their lock again.
When you can’t find them, keys aren’t misplaced. They’ve deserted.”

“Joe, you are serious about this, aren’t you? No more wine tonight.”
What a crazy idea. Must be the wine talking. Could he possibly be right?

Harry Edward Gilleland      07.28.02