A Journey To The Centre Of My Fridge
The door makes a gentle sucking noise as it opens
The yielding gummy seal
Revealing the contents within
The lamp flickering with alarm at my intrusion
Faintly illuminating the gloomy interior
The shelves sparsely populated
With a range of dubious items
Covered and clumsily wrapped
Concealing the substances
Which sit forlorn, congealing
Whose provenance is now unknown
And the subject of fervent speculation
At the back there’s something grey
Hiding, cowering unloved
Shrinking from the scrutiny of prying eyes
Crawling from a mouldy plate
Along the wire-lines to the edge of darkness
Oozing towards the side
There’s a nameless clammy odour
Emanating from that crumbled blob
Which might once have been cheese
Now building its own dairy culture
As it transforms itself into yoghurt
Inching slowly towards the bottom
And perhaps those grey flakes of something
Used to be fine fresh slices of ham
Bought to go with the selection of leaves
Which crouch within their plastic packets
In the special salad crisper below
Transmuting themselves into a liquid form
In three different shades of brown
It’s a sorry sight at this time of night
No answer for a hungry man when desperate for nourishment
It offers little hope of satisfaction
And may be a danger to health
So the only practical thing to do
Is to close the door again, sighing gently
And turn elsewhere for comfort
Whilst making a firm resolution
To clean it out tomorrow morning
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