Lifting Appliances to the Lord
Do I have to write an ode to the hot-water-heater poem?
I can’t afford to do that
The water was only a foot deep.
I’ve had the fan on it.
I look through the little window,
Hold the red pilot button down,
Click the igniter down again and again.
It sparks.
I’ve even offered prayers of supplication in its name.
George, who would know, said,
“It’s just water. It will dry.
You just have to be patient.
It will start.”
Will it?
Really?
Did I mention I don’t do good with helpless?
No comments:
Post a Comment