Made In China Poem by Colin Pickett

I erased this poem
several times before,
unable to describe
artistically the intense
rage I felt upon finding
a hard, pink, Chinese
eraser. It was indescribable.
Something inside exploded.
After annoyedly fumbling though
baskets looking for
that familiar squishy sensation
and finding
the cold, hard, remains
of a previously
acceptable product.
Believe me, I have
nothing against the Chinese
or China. But honestly
China,
I dont like your erasers.
Stay out of my house
and baskets,
or at least make
your erasers squishy.
Its comforting like
a pacifier or friction.
And please, think of
something more creative than,
MADE IN CHINA.