Poem: Rubber Bands

Two more arrived today, enclosing my mail.

I drop them in the doodad drawer with all the other objects I’ve declined to throw away.

Most will never be used. They lie there out of sight and mind, collecting dust.

When you do infrequently need one, you invariably grab one that is old and brittle. It instantly falls apart in your hand.

What is it that makes it virtually impossible for us to throw anything away? An old habit embedded in our genes from our ancestors’ lives of struggle and poverty and want? A Puritan abhorrence of waste?

Or an unconscious denial of death in any form or sphere?

I tell myself I’ll empty this drawer one day. But I never do.

Robert Hamblin is an emeritus professor of English at Southeast Missouri State University, where he taught for 50 years and served as the founding director of the school's Center for Faulkner Studies. He is the author or editor of nearly 60 books, including poetry, fiction, literary criticism, biographies and memoirs.