I took my friend’s marijuana and put it in a tupperware
container in the fridge and told her I would keep it there
until she could leave me a message giving me directions
to the hospital without laughing so hard that I couldn’t
understand if it was on Fifth Street or Fiftieth Street or
in Seneca or in Slovakia or in the middle of Neal Sedaka.
Someday I will return her marijuana to her when she can
and when I do I will keep the tupperware even though it’s
really hers. Why? Well, I just love tupperware, that’s why.