the Frigidaire

abandoned to the basement

after years of service

and there, unplugged.

there were things put inside you

that didn’t need a cold space,

senseless hand tools, arbitrary nails,

frayed ropes and tin cans filled

with assorted nuts and bolts

never to come together.

you stayed put a long, long time

and when the cops came

they put a sticky warning

on your door although

It was never your intent

to suffocate the kids.

but the cops came back

and they checked all over

and found you behind the boiler

with the secret porn magazines.

your door was off, leaning

against a musty wall in the dark.

upstairs, your new replacement

held the rank of General Electric

and everybody ran to it when they were told

there’s a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade in the "Frigidaire".