A Really Beautiful Poem by Me

What does the fire sound like? Let me tell you

When you're home alone, and the house is quiet

At first it whispers, but then it hisses

It spits and dances, upward

Defying gravity

The water bubbles and pops, but that is the fire's sound

It vents air in a constant stream, under the lid of the pot

Like a wind in the forest that never dies

And when you remove the lid, it exhales

aaaaaaahhhhhhh

It twists, it dares you

pop, pop, pop

Water boils

You add the pasta

It quiets

ssssssssssssss

But not to be subdued, it rises again

Slowly and with anger

It pits the pasta and the water against each other in a noisy duel

pop, splash, swish as you stir

You feel the heat

Literally

Bright and hot, the fire threatens you

But you cannot turn it off yet

Until

beep, beep, beep

The timer liberates you

One big step (thunk), one twist of the wrist

With a few final plops, the fire dies

You win

The final whooooosh of the pasta being drained

The mark of your victory

Mankind's victory

And now the house is quiet