Broken Stove Poem
You, of the enameled steel variety,
Will burn no more of my cakes, cookies, and potatoes.
Your insulation long gone,
Was missing long before we made our heated acquaintance.
I will not miss the click, click, clicks of your gas igniter.
Nor will I mourn the small electrocution
Supplied by your ungrounded oven light switch.
I cannot speak for the young technician who was scarred
By your sparky shouting,
But "Workers Compensation" played at my lips.
He was happy to turn you in for a younger model.
Happy to lug you to the curb for the Freecycler
Who will take his chances on your capricious temper.
Your gleaming replacement heats quickly for me,
Like you never did.
Shiny and eager, her fiery sealed burners await my instructions.
Her long arm locks across her body
In a show of self-cleaning allegiance,
Unlike your not-easy-off-at-all interior.
Gold broken stove, I will not remember you warmly.