Dinner on a Plate That Forgot How

Plastic curls at the edges, steaming,

microwave hums a bitter tune.

Cold mush, burnt corners gleaming,

lonely hunger swallowed too soon.

A patch of frozen peas like eyes

stare up from greasy mashed decay.

The flicker of the TV lies

while I nudge food in slow dismay.

Not hunger's foe, just weary truce,

my fork hits frozen, hardened spud.

A meal as lost as my excuse

for eating cold and something dud.