a refrigerator, darkly

gone soft in the crisper
a blackened bag of lettuce
obscures something unimaginable
the vegetables of our best intentions
a holocaust of leafy greens
how many expired cartons
of milk has this ice box
clutched to its breast
the fresh and stale alike
defended ever without rest

in the silence of the wee hours
a relay clicks, a soothing hum
risen from its idle slumber
to keep frozen solids, the
forgotten mastodon fritters
hidden deep beneath the drifts
freezer burnt and suspended
in a dry, cold purgatory where
neither microbe nor hungry beast
can take repast, or even eat

once food, now frozen
never food again
some will call it biohazard
not today, but when?

it argues for the countless
six packs kept, O merry
the beers untold
and the cheese food product
ever free of mold
a bottle of ketchup from ’53
look, as good as gold
the door held wide
as you search in vain
for something safe to eat
it sees the look of blame
you cast, the muffled curse
as you slam its door
it shrugs, says ‘lose the attitude
you dimwit bachelor bore’

compressor chugs and shimmies
to a halt, a pool of
dribbles on the floor
a call to Sears confirms our fears
quoth the repairman

now it stands abandoned
in an alley, its
doors flung open
stripped of its seals
an ogre in a fairy tale
luring curious children
to unthinkable mishaps
the crisper drawer cracked
and cast aside, free
at last from horrid scenes
haunting Dante’s dreams
O! the things it’s seen

One thought on “a refrigerator, darkly

  1. This bit of nonsense is inspired partly by Frank Zappa’s “The Dangerous Kitchen,” and partly by my own sad conduct in life. Alas!


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