An Ode to my Refrigerator,
at least the outside,
an ode to my refrigerator
it is a symbol of my life.
Graced by a casserole dish
of blue and black
made by the potter’s hands.
Hiding, under its weight,
the works of baby’s crayons.
The freezer offers a tableau
of Doric and Ionic columns here.
The spires, though, are Romanesque
and reach up to the sky.
The door to the fridge itself
is covered now with pictures.
Christmas this and Christmas last,
Hawaii, and a new house.
Plus Crash Bandicoot and an escape pod.
And a tiny magnet with a girl
in the rain saying, Thank you, God.
One side is empty.
I want it to look clean.
The other side is full
of calendars and old Mom’s Day cards
that say I’m wonderful.
I hide them there for me.
I’m the only one to see
that he said thank you
for cooking peanut butter sandwiches
and taking him to play at Mickie D’s.
My refrigerator
holds a great amount of food,
but the best parts
are on the outside.
t miss the importance
searching through the foods.

1998-1999