you break everything
the vacuum’s cracked housing
substitutes for bones
the dishwasher doesn’t drain its secrets
so stink we don’t speak of
bleeds across the floor
the microwave clock has a short
so time in this house breaks, stacatto
and needs fixing
*** for napowrimo day 3, we are writing about machines. I chose domestic ones and this darkness spewed out.
Wow. As another take on domestic violence, this one is a stunner
Thanks. Who knew a vacuum cleaner with a crack in it out of the box would inspire this darkness? Not me.
It’s fantastic…and so easily equated as to be scary!
Yeah. Only abusive things in this house are the cats! They also are forgiven because they are cats. Go figure.
haha…the ultimate cat lady you are.
Very nice. (I suppose the “like” button indicates that, but just didn’t seem like enough in this case 🙂 Wonderful imagery. It’s rare that I feel like I’ve learned something from a poem, but with this piece, I have.
My goodness, thank you!
Oh you! Thanks. I’m just gonna tweak it a little.
You’ve been spying on my house again. Nothing works properly. Good one.
LOL, same issues here, obviously.
Thanks, Julie. Missed you!
Thanks, Julie! I missed you!
Lawks. Bitter stuff Susan. It can work both ways
Yes! Usually my poetry is sort of autobiographical, but this one was fiction (well, except for living amongst broken things, hee hee).
Yeah. I say that all the time. Nobody really believes me
Well, the dishwasher and the cracked housing on the vacuum are real.
Ah yes–so many of these stories go unseen….
nicely done, as usual.