What will I find inside the fridge
A bit of food? Just a smidge?
I’m positive I’m almost starving
My stomach sits there cruelly laughing
But once I’m there I’m struck with wonder –
Hunger has been cast asunder.
Perhaps I only came this night
To worship at its’ thrumming light
I only ate within the hour
Such are fridges’ awesome power
A catch-all existential quest
To stop the dread inside my chest
A hopeful source of some elation
Food puts dread on swift probation
The fridge for most, is this location.
It’s either that, or masturbation.
Joe Greathead 