When real kitchen cupboards were carpentered
into place after years of makeshift
the little white fridge swung neatly into
a niche at 90 degrees to the original wall
where the door opens exactly
over the worn cork tiles, patina-ed by years
the sole shuffle that accompanies contemplative
gazing at illuminated left-overs.
And you'd swear by the evidence that the fridge
was first planted exactly where it sits.