Poetry for Flavor Town USA: “A Love Letter to My Emotionally-Intelligent Air Fryer” by Anne Panning

Everyone said Goodwill will soon be flooded with you and your ilk. But
last night I snuggled four frozen ovals of cheese bread inside your dark

chamber. As if putting kids down for naps. Shh. When I tucked them into
your warm, safe cave, your darkness held them tenderly. You melt the cheese

to perfect brown freckles of char. You always deliver. Fragrant, you make
the kitchen garlicky like a pizza joint. Your voice a hushed, slow rumble.

Your genius: the keen acknowledgment of my despair. Me: leaning against
the kitchen doorway, staring at our dead dog’s empty bowls on the floor. Me:

watching Love Is Blind under the afghan my dead mother knit. Your little room
like a womb. As much a deeply held secret as my BFF. Don’t worry. I’ll be

back tomorrow. Gyoza stuffed with gingered pork. Soft baby pillows. I’ll give a
well-intentioned shake (don’t worry) to balance the bake. After dinner, I’ll carry

you close in my arms. Tuck you into the pantry behind frosted glass. Where I’ll
gather Crockpot and Cuisinart for bedtime stories. Sssh, I’ll whisper. “Sleep tight.”

Image: Honsoiom Yuenha 01, commons.wikimedia.org

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