The FAB&PP Poem of the Month for April 1996

the microwave
this busy white noise
that has a pitch
to it, or a tone,
maybe, more like
a key, inside it

it goes with
Tchaikovsky and
other peoples'
poetry. it's loud
and old.

a folly
long accepted.

too big for what
it does. and the
light goes out
almost all the time,
weak socket, bad

but the magnetron
inside does all the
real work and still

i wait for it to
die (before i do) so
i can get another

that just
hums in the
background. less
white noise. more
music. save the poetry for

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