I erased this poem <br />several times before, <br />unable to describe <br />artistically the intense <br />rage I felt upon finding <br />a hard, pink, Chinese <br />eraser. It was indescribable. <br />Something inside exploded. <br />After annoyedly fumbling though <br />baskets looking for <br />that familiar squishy sensation <br />and finding <br />the cold, hard, remains <br />of a previously <br />acceptable product. <br />Believe me, I have <br />nothing against the Chinese <br />or China. But honestly <br />China, <br />I dont like your erasers. <br />Stay out of my house <br />and baskets, <br />or at least make <br />your erasers squishy. <br />Its comforting like <br />a pacifier or friction. <br />And please, think of <br />something more creative than, <br />MADE IN CHINA.<br /><br />Colin Pickett<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/made-in-china-3/
