Poem: The vet wife’s refrigerator

A scream from the kitchen. The thud of a faint. She sighs and arises and walks with restraint. Her neighbor lays peaceful, eyes fixed in a stare She’s passed out in front of the new Frigidaire. She looks at the rack with eggs in its keep Winking up at her’s the eye of a sheep. There’s a bottle of PenStrep near the Swanson’s Pot Pies And down in the crisper’s a bagful of flies. The butter…