the one in the corner, that rattles,
that has
a mind of its own,
is trembling
as i mention
throwing it out the window.
the paper
stuck,
out of ink.
the connection weak.
i hear it talking to the vacuum
in the morning,
to the toilets
that leak,
to the refrigerator
that hums,
and won't freeze.
yesterday
i swear i heard the toaster
speaking
to the air fryer,
whispering
conspiratorial things.
i think they're planning
something against
me.
i sleep with one eye open
now, and a hammer
under my pillow.
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