Ode to The Office FridgeRiper than a comely wench, Greener than a shrub. Pulsing, so it seems, with life: My colleague's turkey club. I see it every morning, yea, When I dare open wide The mini office Frigidaire To stuff my lunch inside.
In goes my humble bag of brown To wait till half past 1, Between a rusting StarKist tin And krypton Cinnabon. Just one short shelf above it sits A dip that turned to green Sometime back when normal guys Still envied Charlie Sheen. Carrots that can bend themselves Like gymnasts from the East Speak of diet dreams ignored In favor of McFeast. And on the swinging door we find One Grey Poupon gone blue, A jar of ranch that bought the farm, A Yoplait turned Yoglue.
The "stew" my boss made for his wife (Did someone call it swill?) "Bring it for the office, hon." He did.
"Gr-r-r-r-!" he growls while shoving in A side of rice and peas, Unaware its way is blocked By his own fuzzy cheese. And do not ask about the milks! A cast of cartons wait, To fleck my coffee gray with lumps Unseen until too late.
Frigidaire, O Frigidaire, So small and yet so potent. Your presence is proclaimed to all The minute you are opent. Repository of our food And of what makes us tick, We love you, need you, wish you well, But shut your door, please. Quick! Lenore Skenazy is the author of "Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children (Without Going Nuts with Worry)" and "Who's the Blonde That Married What's-His-Name? The Ultimate Tip-of-the-Tongue Test of Everything You Know You Know — But Can't Remember Right Now." To find out more about Lenore Skenazy (lskenazy@yahoo.com) and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2011 CREATORS.COM
|
 |
|
||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
|
|
