LPiA-24 Nov. 1

[Tiger the Lion]

Let's Pretend it's April - Nov. 1

Rules: Write a poem for LPiA on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a New Reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month, have written 30 poems for the month of November. (or one, or six, or fifteen) Prompts may be revisited at any time. All members are welcome.

Topic : Write a poem inspired by an everyday household chore. (cooking, dishes, laundry etc.)
Form : Any
Line requirements: 8 or more

Feel free to reply with comments or kudos as you wish. 

Questions?

[brynmawr1]

The dishes
they remain
stacked, cluttering
the morning
coffee delayed
fucking maid
coming
today of all
days.

[Wjames]

After tossing the sheets in a plastic blue Ikea bag,
I clear the floor of clutter: folding chair, rotating fan,
guitar and stand, half-read paperback,
placed on the bed.

Throwing the bag around my shoulder,
I grab detergent and the sack of dirty clothes
off the floor below the hanging dresser
in the corner nook.

Lumbering up the stairs in to my slip ons,
I place the sack on the top step and ease
open the door, placing the clothes beyond the threshold
and stepping beside them to nudge the door back.

Hugging the sack of clothes,
I waddle past the jungle gym and church,
turning right on St. Clair and stopping at Variety
to make change and buy smokes.

A few fronts down, the laundromat is busy.

A kid is playing a game on his phone,
his mom is sitting with her feet on a table
looking dour, a young woman is reading
in the corner.

I fill up two machines and walk back
with a cigarette, to broom then mop
then bathe.

[RiverNotch]

Ideally,
when I wake up,
I kiss your face
then kiss the earth
some fifty times
then make good conversation,

and right before
I go to bed,
we talk again,
I kiss your face,
then kiss the earth
another fifty times.

Ideally:
I will confess
this sort of life
is hard enough
when one has nothing else to do.

If not the spirit
then the body
fails, and in despair
the spirit fails again,
she lacerates the body

and, again,
despair.

[Magpie]

Housefun

I'm not good

                   at housework,
but I can be

                   Fred Astaire.

The Hoover is 
Ginger Rogers,

     I turn her on
     and we dance
     round rooms
     blowing out

                    cobwebs.


   * - 'Hoover' is British for vacuum cleaner

[CRNDLSM]

My loves morning temper shouts
'I'm the only one who does 
Anything around this house!'
As she picks the pillows up
Lining them along the couch.
Wincing cause I've had enough
Big mistake escapes my mouth
'Hey, dont forget your stack of cups'

[dukealien]

Bin Smart


I love my tall, smart, plastic kitchen bin
big-mouthed, which opens with a pedal step
just partway to accept my refuse in
but snaps shut afterward with airtight pep.

The problem is, it’s quite intelligent:
with harder tromp it flips up all the way
and locks (bag changes are its kind intent)
with ripened breath convenience can’t allay.

[dukealien]

@brynmawr1 - Beautiful, the twist:  can't leave anything untidy for the maid to see 

@Wjames - How well I remember, though in a colder climate.  Putting a paperback book in the laundry bag, to read while the machines cycled.  Then distracted, getting change.  Then, an hour later, finding my clothes confetti-ed with Ursula LeGuin's "The Wind's Twelve Quarters."  Very smart of you to use a translucent bag!

@RiverNotch - sublime and despairing are so close.

@Magpie - an upright, for sure.

@CRNDLSM - the perils of not living alone 

[Tiger the Lion]

The Robot Vacuum

On a full charge and empty belly
the robot vacuum crashes aimlessly
about the apartment.

It licks up all those little bits
of cookie crumbs and lint
it finds amid the cat hair.

Sometimes it misses a room completely,
though it's only 
                      one 
          strategic 
                      move 
  from treasure.

You'd think it intended to circle forever--
banging its head off the same four walls.