Come and see why Mrs Knebel’s kitchens
have the edge on the others
I am deeply philosophical. My material wants
are nil. Well, a Knebel’s kitchen to work in,
perhaps, groovy and modular. One knife for bacon
and one for roast pork. One juicer. One blender.
One mixer. One orange squeezer. One fruit pulper
for reserve purposes. A frogskin microwave.
A neon light in the Seven Day Vegetable Container.
A cinnamon destabilizer. One garlic clamp and
herbalizer. A vitamin pill press. A blow dryer
for shallots. I am the oven of your well-being,
singeing away the starch and fats of disbelief.
I am the archangel of calorie control, the Jane
Fonda of Benedict Spinozas: those who believe in me
will know eternal light, for snacks, at four a.m.