The Toilet
by the poet mom
I clean it and care for it because I must
But make no mistake it is my enemy.
The odor makes my nose wriggle in disgust.
Its maintenance requires advanced alchemy.
♦
The oozing drips and yellow puddles
Fill my heart with dismay.
The state of it befuddles.
How could it look like this every day?
♦
My roomies seem not to notice my frustration
As they continually manage to miss the mark.
For them there is no mitigation
It is my task alone on which to embark.
♦
I purchase the latest in cleaning absurdities
And diligently perform my recalcitrant duties.
However, I alone cannot sustain the neatness I desire.
So, it is a maid I will very soon hire.
Oh, how I love my boys but my secret infatuation is with my cleaning lady !! Thank you Poetmom and hope to see you this fall at the mush!!