Tuesday, November 27, 2007

The Kitchen

After my Father and I had the sex talk
All I could think of was cheese
So I searched the fridge
for something to melt it on
Standing in my dingy kitchen
The floors and walls stained
from leaking water
Pots and pans lived permanently
in our filthy sink
These days it was throw away Tupperware
and paper plates
Our refrigerator was a model you might see
in a Three Stooges short
The food inside
just about as old
Somehow, we had a microwave oven
You can imagine how clean it was inside
Once the radiation buzzed up
I found art in my surroundings
Waiting for my leftover chicken cutlet
These dirty pots
Mildew stains
Prehistoric appliances
pushing out one last spark
I saw an amazing setting
It wasn't beautiful
Not even close
But I couldn't help see something
Like a movie
This is a place that two cops walk into
and find too many people slaughtered
Guts thrown every where
like raw ground meat
Buckets of organs and bones
in the fridge or bathtub
Like a collection someone can't wait to show
'I've been doing this for years
here are some of my favorites'
Then the microwave blipped off
bringing me back
to the less romantic reality
There was no blood here
No bones or bodies
just one tired man
and a sick young boy

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