Poetry | Ode to an oven

By Alex Dolinger, Senior Staff Columnist

There are a million curiosities

In my 3-bedroom apartment

Too-short shelves and

Rooms with five corners and 

Maybe more


But the one that stumps me

Stops me in 

my tracks

Is the oven,

Used twice in three months

Due to the biggest curiosity 

Of all


When it is time to bake

Perhaps some cookies

Or a sweet potato

And I turn the oven








The smoke alarm, 

Despite the absence

Of smoke

Or scent

There is no fire

But the rage 

In my heart

And the pain

In my ears


God damn it

I guess I just

Can’t use my oven

That I pay so much money

To have


I asked my landlord

What I should do

And she said

“That sounds like an oven problem”

Which is something

That I already 


And not an answer

To my question

Or a solution 

To my problem


It is October now

Which marks two months

And counting

That I have not used my oven

And maybe

I never