Leftover Lament
Here I sit
in the back
of the fridge
waiting
for the sudden light
a distant face
a rummaging hand
then rapture
the lo mein left yesterday
the pizza box was taken today
I’d rather be consumed
than tossed for slow decay
Here— in the back
of the frig
Written for today’s Living Poetry Prompt.
hee hee hee!
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Thanks for the prompt, JM!
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Feels like the singles dances I used to attend. Nice poem.
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Thank you. That’s just what I was going for.
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another voice heard, from the back of the fridge. cool.
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Thanks!
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Sure, what they said. But inquiring minds want to know if that’s your refrigerator. :)
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Ha! My fridge only holds red wine. For the thermal mass, of course.
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Ha ha ha!
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