I just realized why we can eat anything no matter how old or worn out. Imperviousness to food poisoning takes a life time of preparation. My cooler tells why:
They packed me nice and snugly,
Each item wrapped twice.
Stacked with vacuum sealed packages neatly,
Each item counted thrice.
Breakfast to the right,
Dinner atop a bag of frozen rice.
Each item comes frozen,
Followed by an avalanche of ice.
Their spaces well chosen,
The items begin to emerge.
More room but less frozen,
The beginning of the scourge.
I shift and I toss,
My contents make a song.
The churn makes a sauce,
Of all the things that shouldn’t belong.
The horror of my contents,
Are yet to be complete.
As ice remains in segments,
Plenty time left for freshness to retreat.
River water enters,
The bologna mixes with yogurt.
Penetrated into the center,
Finally a cause for alert.
I am drained of the chunky yellow water,
The contents have all gone awry.
What remains is food for warriors,
Three more days till they fly.