Two-Pocket Blues

Someone ... I've forgotten who ... once said, in effect, that work expands to fill the time available to it. I had a boss who was fond of quoting that.

I was never fully convinced of its being a universal truth.

There were examples, of course, all around us, of little work expanding to fill vast expanses of time.

But there were also examples of industrious, dedicated workers who could turn out a vast amount of work ... by expending the required effort and sticking with the task ... in a relatively small amount of time.

I would not sell those workers short. Their value, to themselves and society, is obvious.

I have occasionally borrowed ... and adapted ... my former boss' mantra, however. Clutter, for example, has a habit of expanding to fill the space available to it. In this instance, pockets.

More specifically, in my case, two pockets.

While I lament the passing of the two-pocket shirt, I've found that when I do, on rare occasion, wear a shirt with two pockets, I simply load myself down with twice as much clutter ... yes, clutter ... as I ordinarily would.

So my weepy little poem about the disappearance of the two-pocket shirt, I must admit, is not entirely valid. Still ... there are times when an extra pocket would be nice.

But what about putting some of that stuff in a pants pocket? Hey, if I had any room left there, I would. Shirt pockets are for the overflow, you know.

Today's poem:

TWO-POCKET BLUES

Shirts I've known

and loved the most

all had two pockets,

a feature I really,

really needed for

my peace of mind.

Just knowing I had

that extra room,

a place to carry

sun glasses, a pen -

a pencil, too, just

in case - a mint,

toothpicks, perhaps

telephone change,

or a mysterious

scribbled note,

meant so much to me.

But now, sad to say,

I'm a two-pocket

person, being held

against my will, in

a one-pocket world.

© 1999

(originally published in Capper's)

Today's word: overflow