21.4.10

Poem 52

Electric toasters 
Like to follow me around
Leaving trails of crumbs.
They drag their cords like lacklustre tails.
They will “ding” to get my attention & begin to 
Blow smoke if I brush them off.
I read The Brave Little Toaster while sitting
Before an electric heater but learned no new insights
The heater hissed & sparked
Some advice, then ran us a bath
But pulled out at the last minute
Just as one of the toasters hopped in.
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