Poem in the Manner of a Refrigerator
        to be read through a vocoder or with Auto-Tune

My song goes:
Refrigerator, Refrigerator,
Refrigerator, Automatic Automatic—
I can hold that note
All night long. I can hold that note
Till the power slips and my insides
Melt. Tonight, I'm the master of cold.
Tonight, I dream of singing
Backup. (A cool cat with a top hat.)
Forget the grapes in their fur
Overcoats. Forget wanting to scream
Through my compressor:
Take out the takeout! Take out the takeout!
Automatic, Automatic—
But Hunger just awoke from a bird's nest.
Hunger has hot breath, not like
Mine, mine like toothpaste
Commercials, mine like
York Peppermint Patty.
Hunger stands there in his pj's, squinting
At the light inside my chest. This little light
So fascinating to his kid. His kid
Who opens and closes me
Like a cigarette box, trying to catch
Me dark. What's the fascination
With Light?
With Fire? Hunger only cares
About warmth.
Overlooks the value of cool.
Doesn't appreciate how I hold my note
Summer after Summer:
Refrigerator, Refrigerator,
Refrigerator, Automatic Automatic—
Everyone talks about Fire as lifesaver.
What about Ice? I make Ice.
I keep Ice, Ice.

Copyright © 2010 Michael Cirelli All rights reserved
from Vacations on the Black Star Line
Hanging Loose Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission