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Poetry - 'Clean'

Bathroom.

If I just clean this spot. This spot. Spot a spec of something grey, decay, a yellowing grey.

and proceed to scrub, polish, scrub, toothbrush scrub.

Harsh, sharp wipes, delight and offend my nostril hairs.

Living room.

If I just clean this spot. This spot. Spot a spec of something….Bits. Bits everywhere, gather like a clog of antisocial youths, refuse to be suck up into the abyss.

Run over once, twice. Again, four times. Nothing.

Kitchen.

Sink soup slurps,

Bin bottom blob beckons,

Oven orange tang offers scrubbing delight and decay.

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