The Other Reefer Madness

In the style of Ogden Nash, beloved poet of whimsy

Investigation of a bachelor’s refrigerator is akin to a visit to a Museum of Natural History,

Usually involving mustiness and baffling miscellany and gritty realism and a dollop of mystery,

But nobody will be there to adhere a visitor’s badge on us,

Nor will a docent explain that after some months of benign neglect, the contents of a bag of carrots become mucilaginous,

And since the mission is to clean and to come out as unscathed as possible it behooves us the custodian to arm ourself with scrubbies and a dish-soaped rag and an otherwise-never-used department store credit card for that which is excessively sticky,

And possibly an exorcist for that which is downright icky,

and which finds its way to the bottommost nook, cranny and cavity

Via the elegant mechanism of gravity.

A sizable, sturdy garbage bag will serve, Ladies and Mates,

To contain the many items that have passed by as much as a year their “Best Served By” dates.

The hours invested in this enterprise cannot exactly be called fun,

But darn if there isn’t a slight elation when it is finally done,

And we will be made even more glad

When we crack open the untouched bottle of vodka we forgot we had.

Loosely based on a true event