The Ikea bag, only ninety-nine cents.
FRAKTA is what they call you;
I’ll take their word for it.
But to me, you are a trusted partner,
willing to carry
All manner of stuff,
without complaint, puncture, or tear.

Ninety-nine cents. Who would have guessed
That you would be this robot coach’s
tournament favorite?
Who knew
That you could carry four field tiles?
Or even a Starstruck cube and four stars?
What else could I use for these annoying objects
That we must bring to tournaments,
Just in case.

Indestructible you are,
O ninety-nine cent saviour.
Bunch of metal scrap pieces
with pointy edges? No problem.
Heavy stuff
that really shouldn’t all go in one bag?
No problemo.
Need a place to shove
all those jackets under the table,
since now we’re hot, but when we got here
we were freezing?
Gotcha covered.

I hope you are not jealous
that I have more than one of you.
Ninety-nine cents,
who could resist?
You and your brethren,
side by side,
FRAKTA soldiers in the great Battle
of Stuff.

Ninety-nine cents.
Well
spent.

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