HOT JUICE IN AUGUST

 

T. Anders Carson

 

 

The only thing

that seems to work around here

is my nail clippers,

Everything else has either

had their warranties expire,

rotted out,

roasted or exploded

in the process.

I feel like these

empty machines

that surround our lives.

It’s not like we name them.

 

I’d like you to meet Gina my toaster

or Gertrude my iron,

there’s Mabel the dish washer,

Nellie the sewing machine,

TV named Grete,

Polly the printer,

Maurice the monitor

and good ole’Bill the doorstop.

I once met a woman

who had a shelf full

of miniature divorced grooms.

 

 

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