I open the door to the fridge
It is one of two
Because we need more room
To store all our food
I open the door to the fridge
So packed that five things fall out
Half empty cartons of spoiling food
I stuff them back in
I open the door to the fridge
And a smell like a fart wafts out
I close the door quickly
Trying to ignore the stench
..........
Clean Out, November 19th 2009
Half eaten can of old spam,
almost empty cartons of sour cream
too numerous to count,
stacked up haphazardly – they always fall out.
Throw them all out.
Expired
Spotted lunchmeat – definitely bad,
styrofoam container of leftovers from
some restaurant visited on Mother’s Day.
Even more in another fridge to get rid of;
doggie bags meant for later.
Forgotten
Biscuits dated 14th of April 2009.
Squishy zucchini squashed and
no good now.
Brown guacamole, green fuzzy cheese,
liquefied lettuce and more…
Wasted
Don’t forget the eggs,
of a carton 3 are left.
Don’t think of dozens of others
in bags long ago thrown away,
like now - too heavy to lift.
Trashed
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Poetry is not always pretty and it does not have to rhyme.
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