the existential waffle iron

do i really

need

a waffle iron, i ask myself,

as i stare

at the closet

full of air fryers,

mixers

and blenders,

food processors,

coffee machines

and 

microwave

ovens,

toaster ovens.

all once

used but set aside finally

because i had

no room on

the counter to butter toast

from the one

appliance left standing.

i only want waffles

maybe

once a year.

usually when the first

frost

arrives

and i feel like i need to

fatten up

like a bear

about to hibernate.

maybe a small one,

i tell myself.

a two-waffle iron, 

not one or four

or eight.