The Toaster
Is full of toasted bread
Every morning
Every winter.
The boy robs the bread
From the toaster
Taking the heat
Of the bread,
But the toaster
Does not want to part
With the bread.
The hot bars
Leave circles
In the air
Following the toasted bread
Like the hands of a little boy
Who wants the warmth
Of
The bread
The shiny toaster
White
Opaque
Is ready
To be the slave
Of the humans;
It expends energy
And doesn’t get anything.
The smile
Of the humans
That smell
The bread
Know that
The knife is ready
To assassinate
The bread
And all the toaster
Can do
Is listen
To the cries of its baby.
The toaster
Sees all
Knows all
But the toaster
White
Opaque
Has no power
In the kitchen.