2012-09-24T00:00:48-07:00September 24th, 2012|Musings on life|

The long and thankless life of a waffle iron

The waffle irons lay in the garbage
like corpses
like a rich person’s

I never thanked them
for all those brunches
punching squares into dough
for syrup to puddle

our last moments together
sweaty and annoyed
impotent machines
old men with no teeth

I picked the waffles out with a fork
shards of crisp
disfigured mounds
syrup falling off them like lava

I poured orange juice
and announced
an expletive coming
like a baby


I said
and felt better
even though our guests chewed
like they were eating crackers

and I know waffle irons can’t hear
but I regret not toasting
to their long
and devoted life.

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