i open the door
   and crash
   into a wall
   of deepest ebony
tentatively
i take that first step into the unknown
   and there it is
   my foot catches
   on the unseen
   brown cardboard box
so that’s where i put that
    i think as i go sprawling
    hoping for my hand
    to find some sort of
    purchase on the dresser

before attempting to grope
    my way along the
    wall for the light switch
    i stop
    and absorb
    the cacophony of silence
    ringing in my ears
so i hit the switch
    the fluorescent god above
    blazing to life

weaving my way through
    the now visible maze
    i grasp the fridge’s handle
last night’s leftovers
    i spill them into
    the microwave-safe
    tupperware
time    cook    2   0   0   start

pasta, peppers, garlic
    float themselves
    directly to my brain
fork in hand
    i do my best steam shovel
    impersonation
    the penne takes the plunge
    spicy tomato gravy
    greases the slide.

**we were supposed to use the five senses to describe a place. i think this poem is dumb. definitely not the style i prefer.**