Thursday, June 12, 2008

Ode to a Cleaning Service

Reflections in My Bathroom

Please don’t judge me by my bathroom

Malodorous molotov cocktail of putrid human debris and psychotic stench
where dust drifters roost in sticky swills of bacteria-laden goo
Cowering undercover miscreants they are,
having no sense of shame or belonging

Each nook and cranny seethes with stubborn caked on stains of mortal refuse,
demanding their due in an increasingly unmanageable score
The sheer inundation of invading infectious microbes reminds
we too are but flecks of dust
Discombobulated fragments of purpose seeking gatherers
forging a unique path
in an unwieldy universe

When did I fire my cleaning service?
Judging by the proliferation of shower mold, it must have been a lifetime ago
I suppose it is time to throw in the towel
Wave the white flag
and give my neighbor's maid a try

Me and my bathroom
We have a lot more in common than I’m willing to admit
Perhaps that is why toothpaste stains and dried up spittle saturate its glass
Dull white blotches of what might have been
in a window of limitless potential

Okay
My bathroom may be a crud-infested wasteland, but it doesn’t reflect who I am
A factotum for hire is just a phone call away
I, on the other hand, claim the power within
to cleanse myself of detritus and detractors
rather than marinate in the muck

Please don’t judge me by my bathroom
The clean one is just down the hall to your left



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