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the fridge
Contributed by
Jan_Oskar_Hansen
on
Thursday, 18th July 2002 @ 12:54:12 PM in AEST
Topic:
HumorPoetry
|
The Fridge.
In the summer silence, far from town, in
a village settled firmly by a slope, where
crocked streets are uneven, mules clanking
hooves and cartwheels creak are a memory,
I listen to the kitchens fridge song.
Naturally its about true love and that shell
never leave me and since its a mechanical
voice I had to make up the words that are
a mixture of western ballads, the lonely
cowboy on his horse riding into the sunset.
When I open its door and drink milk straight
from the carton its voice gets shrill tells me
to use a glass, complains that its white surface
is full of my finger marks; slam the door shut,
look out of the windowempty street.
Turn back to the fridge open its door drink
milk, as a sullen protest, the way I want to,
clean its surface though till it looks like
a snow princess bosom, then I make up
new words for a beautiful song.
Copyright ©
Jan_Oskar_Hansen
... [
2002-07-18 12:54:12]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: the fridge
(User Rating: 1 )
by Jackee_line on
Wednesday, 13th November 2002 @ 08:50:06 PM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
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| great write, funny.. |
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