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M is for the many things I store there

5/9/2013 - West Side Leader
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By Craig Marks

On the Mark — By Craig Marks

Mother, I must tell you

Something I don’t say enough

How I’m thankful that you never tried

To auction off my stuff


I think of Kobe Bryant

Who was far less than ecstatic

When he learned his mom was selling

All the stuff left in her attic


The stuff he always said he’d take

(That Kobe, such a kidder!)

Was given to an auction house

And awaits the highest bidder


But Kobe called his lawyers

And it’s now before the courts

We’ll see who’ll get possession

Of his high school gym class shorts


Which made me think of you, Mom

And the stuff I left behind

You’ve never tried to sell it

Though it surely crossed your mind


My bowling trophies, baseball shirts

All “priceless memorabilia”

Of which you ask so sweetly,

“You’re gonna take this home, now will ya?”


But no, I never do

For which you never seem perturbed

At least enough to box it up

And place it on the curb


But I promise that I’ll take it home

A little, bit by bit

For if I took it wholesale

My wife would have a fit

And to all the moms who store our stuff

I say this, most emphatic

A Happy Mother’s Day to you

And we’re sorry about the attic

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