To a dead microwave

To a dead microwave


Two days before the rain turned white
and began to flutter
you sparked for the last time,
sputtered,
and gave up your place by the window
for the rubbish bin.

It was just last Sunday
after you warmed the biscuit gravy,
and made the burritos sizzle.
Even on this day of snizzle,
you'd have warmed the air
with fragrant wafts of cinnamon.

All sustenance once graced
your open door. No more.
Your clean white surface
is now your shroud.
You've been replaced.
No longer proud,
a paper taped to you says:
Rest In Peace.

I give your note one final glance
then go outside
to join the white rain dance.


Kåre Enga

catalogue number [162.537]
15 november 2005

Note: Aimeé's Coffeehouse. Their specialty is biscuits and gravy. They use their microwaves alot!