Microwave Slave
I thought I knew the way things work
The twists and tweaks and all the quirks
I thought I knew my way around
At fifty three a man of town
From my birth until my grave
I cannot work my microwave
I read that damn book upside down
Inside out and round and round
Things don't cook early
Things don't cook late
They just stay static on the plate
They don't go up
They don't go down
Left or right or round and round
Cook them once, cook them twice
Plated meals are cold as ice
One min, two min, even three
The damn thing just won't work for me
So I sit here and grow so thin
Are you supposed to plug it in
Copyright © John Scott | Year Posted 2012
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