The Once and Never Buttered Toast

The once and never buttered toast erupted
At times we never could predict for sure. But
I knew the fridge was singing strangely for an
Appliance fitted with a rubber doughnut

Instead of rubbing old cube ice together,
Dispensing shards that spark off groaning glaciers
And rolling, rolling in the frozen dirt, the
Erect tomato stalks deflecting pinching

Diversions, raising raisinettes to tempt the
One sodden goblin left to eat our tasties.
Away with morals unaffordable; the
Remaining dishes in the sink are broken,

And going out to catch the night is always
Enough to tell the morning what was eaten
And why. Why not fall down upon the crowing

Of day and whiz your head around? I’m cracking,
And famished for a look you make, my whirlwind,
The one that starts inside my eyes and sticks out.