Vintage: Not Frost Free

Vintage Refrigerator

Vintage Refrigerator (Photo credit: SanFranAnnie)

I’m in this strange in between space.  Between waiting and doing and deciding on the waiting and the doing and the deciding.  This leaves too much time devoted to thinking.  And remembering.

This morning I was talking with a friend about my love of the beach.  Now pretty much limited to summer time, when I was young I used to go year round.  In fall and winter I would sit on the rocks of that Brooklyn beach with my radio (and then walkman), spiral notebook and pencil, and write poor, angsty poetry.  Of course then I didn’t see it as poor or angsty.  But yeah, it was.

Strangely enough, though I don’t write much poetry anymore, when I do it’s still poor and angsty.  And when I do, I still enjoy the process.

 

a lousy poem, by Mrs Fringe


Unplug that old Frigidaire
with the frayed cord
and the rusted coils
Coffee, screwdriver, gin
     Prepared

Words of frost six inches thick
trap the right phrase
only the wrong fits
Flathead now an ice pick
   Chink clunk

Ice drips, words melt until
eventually
The pan overflows
with gray sentences
Seeping through
asbestos tiles

 

Happy Friday, everyone–and an extra special Friday it is, spring break starts this afternoon for my girl.

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14 comments

  1. Now I’m yearning for my beloved Horseneck Beach in Westport, MA. I don’t care when I go, I love being there. I love sitting on one of the massive granite rocks, looking out at Buzzard’s Bay, hair whipping. I love smelling ocean, tasting sea salt on my lips. . .

    The pan overflows
    with gray sentences
    Seeping through
    asbestos tiles

    Oh, if only I could write such lousy poetry, Mrs Fringe.

    ❤ kk

    Like

    1. ye-es, the taste of the salt air. Heaven, truly.

      And I’m very certain you can wax poetic more beautifully than I. ❤ Though we could have fun, organize a lousy poetry blog round…
      🙂

      Like

  2. you need to unplug…..the brain 😛 The poem was very good, the imagery, the flow, nothing lousy, it was quite nice!! I always wished I could write poetry, be an artist with words. YEA For spring break, it is SO needed!!

    Like

    1. Hah! I ripped those prongs out of the socket at 2:35 😀

      You’re an artist with food. ❤
      And now I shall commence zoning out on the couch for the next 3 days.
      O wait, I have to make dinner. 😉

      Like

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