I’ve a hoover that no longer sucks
despite clearing out all kinds of muck:
three spiders, my hair
and John’s underwear,
So, I have to concede that it’s fucked.
I’ve rinsed out my J-cloths and duster
of grime with what zeal I can muster.
I’d rather be fed
At best my approach is lack-lustre.
I have mopped Flash and polished my brass
I’ve grown weary to Windowlene glass.
I’ve sprayed Mr. Sheen,
got surfaces clean.
That’s enough for this year. Kiss my ass!
Sue lives in Hampshire and has poems in Acumen, Orbis and Stand magazines and on-line at Ink, Sweat and Tears. Sue works with Winchester Poetry Festival and is editor for the Open University annual poetry anthology. Find out more on twitter @Sue Spiers