A stocked fridge is a population
stamped with death dates
that hold your money in escrow,
ready and willing
to take your dough to the grave
if you neglect them.

“I was good enough for you
when you bought me at the store,”
you hear from behind a veil of husk,
huskier than you remember.
Hell hath no fury
like a scorned corn.

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By Richard Glinnen