Fridge

Bob McAfee

My fancy French-doored refrigerator is dying, in stages:

six months ago he lost his ice cream, several weeks gone

I noticed, almost imperceptibly, his lunch meat going

bad after a week. Important – his milk was still cold –

the service man cometh – the bad news told,

condenser almost dead – he’ll soon be brainless,

so young at five years and so expensive – ironic – my old

refrigerator is out in the garage, sulking, but cooling

at age twenty-two – how could I have been so blinded by

stainless?