Today a Northern Irish girl
Asked if I had ' fridges'
I thought that she had read my poem
About the life that's Midge's

I told her 'It's out the back
It's tall and white and hums'
'No' She said ' I want the type
That from a carton comes'

I looked askance, she asked again
'Do you have some  fridges?'
I repeated what she had said
Then smiled- she wanted 'fruit juice' .