Ordinary Toothpick

The ordinary toothpick fills the needs of mankind With a pick, pick, here, and a pick, pick there. A little piece of stick with no holes, handles Cords, plugs, tops, bottoms, insides, or batteries. You little piece of stick, literally at the bottom of the totem pole. Probably preserved in a bottom drawer in the dark rusted hull Of the Titanic at the bottom of the sea; you little unwanted stick! You little piece of stick, colorful, glistening, and perky sticking Out of a pig-in-a-blanket on a party boat that’s floating Off the Boston skyline, then slung; I said slung like spit Into the cold murkiness that keeps the ship afloat, the party going And the hors d’oeuvres handed out. Or, is the ship clunking about On millions of discarded toothpicks? All hail the toothpick. You ordinary little piece of stick, or maybe, Unordinary!?