Never Show Defiance Toward a Kitchen Appliance

Speak carefully to my stove and sink,
And flatter my nice Disposall.
My kitchen’s smarter than people think,
And not only hears, but knows all.
The hours I damn it with doubtful praise
And act like a boorish smarty,
It lies in wait
To retaliate
The next time I give a party.

(Although a modern kitchen is grand and much of its work miraculous,
The lowliest kitchen has a soul as deadly and dark as Dracula’s.)

Today, when the oven got too hot
And drove me to quick profaning,
The kitchen noted what I forgot:
The fact I was entertaining.
A brooding burner was swift to scorch
The gravy Fd left to thicken;
And — doing its bit —
The oven quit,
Refusing to cook the chicken.

(Don’t ever question a stove’s I ,Q_. A stove is an Einstein mentally
And terribly smart at accidents that happen unaccidentally.)

Another burner leapt up to burn
A dishcloth Fd dropped across it,
And when at last Fd managed to turn
The knob on the sticking faucet,
The garbage Disposall chuckled low
Tike some old witch in a grotto
And filled the sink
To beyond the brink
With lettuce and limp tomato.

(A garbage Disposall’s steely heart is venomous and unpardoning,
So now when the garbage overflows, I bury it when I’m gardening.)

The moment the wall fan noticed smoke
It ceased like a weary linnet;
And when I’d given its grille a poke
And lost a good steak knife in it,
The icebox suddenly realized
My comments had been too curt
And, acting exhausted,
Gently defrosted
Into the molded dessert.

(It’s silly calling a kitchen’s deeds reliable or commendable.
Whatever talents a kitchen has, it readily finds expendable.)

You can’t fool kitchens with false aplomb
Or feelings you think don’t show.
It does no good to whistle and hum.
Like horses and dogs, They Know.
The stupidest kitchen’s not appeased
By blandishments meek or hearty.
Aware of its rights,
It counts its slights
Till next time you give a party.