Eulogy for a Toaster

this morning I saw
on the side of the road
an old toaster
its cord disappearing into the dirt
as though it was powered by the very heat of Hell

the illusion ended there — its two silly slits
were no flaming mouths to the underworld
and it looked sad, as though it knew
I would not grant it a menacing adjective
not “gaping” or “ravenous”

perhaps “munchy”
but then, it looked so lonely
a kitchen appliance with an eating disorder, most likely
diagnosed as not functional and not biodegradable
tossed aside for the harmful mutant it is

not fit to donate parts
rejected by all of humankind and kitchenware
being pulled into a grave by its own plug

if it made one contribution to society
let it be this poem
and an $1000 fine
for littering

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