Canton Writes: Imagination is a Refrigerator

Sometimes,
There are so many ideas in that little machine
That your head aches
Overflowing with forgotten thoughts
And the inspirations you put in there
When the light bulb in your head
Turned a bright yellow
But dimmed too quickly
For further thinking;
So you take out a big black bag
And you throw things in there
Like the whipped cream that went rotten
Or the cookie you bought at school but never ate
And is too old to eat now,
But for some reason
You store that bag in the closet
Because maybe
Just maybe
You’ll use them later.
Who knows?

Sometimes,
The refrigerator’s too empty
And you need to visit the grocery store.
You go to school,
Where you learn about dinosaurs
And the evolution of things
You’ve never heard of,
And you stuff that into the “vegetable only” section
Because maybe you’ll eat it,
And maybe you won’t,
It all depends on your appetite.

You walk to the library
And borrow a book that your best friend said was good
You read it and you like it,
Because those ideas in there
Taste so yummy
So fresh and delicate;
So you think
Maybe I’ll put those tasty ideas
Into that refrigerator of mine
And use them later
For the English homework
Due Friday.

At the end of the week,
You take out the food you’ve gotten from place all over,
Like your friend’s house
Or the attic your mom made you clean
Two months ago.
You take them out
And place them onto a sheet of paper
And cook them up at 375 degrees Fahrenheit
Until they make the meal that
Looks just right
And tastes just like
The broth your dad made for you
Next to the fire
On a cold winter night.

You eat it
And smell it
And look at it
Until it’s all familiar in your brain,
And you don’t even know that
You’ve added something new
In that refrigerator of yours
Until you search through
Two weeks later and find
The meal you made
Or the dessert you baked
On that sheet of paper
Laying in your writing folder
In the English room
At school.