Anastasia Suen is our Poetry Friday host this week. She’s been inspiring us all year with Small Poem prompts and this week it’s all about FIRST SNOW!
CHORES
As Thanksgiving waltzed out the door with the last visitor, did you dread the inevitable cleanup? Or do you roll right into Christmas decorating and rationalize a deep clean to come when the jingles go silent?
This is how old I am: We brought home a new vacuum cleaner and we can’t stop talking about it. We may as well have become new grandparents again for all the ooh’s and ah’s and singing its praises. Some context here: We are owned by a 90-pound Bernese Mountain dog. Think: hair in your ice cubes. Dog hair is an accessory for me. I carry it everywhere. It’s my version of body art – that moves.
But I had no idea just how much dog hair lived on my floors and furniture till we emptied the vacuum catch-bin 20+ times in one run through the house. And it comes with a spooky-green laser-like light that sees invisible tufts that I swear were never there but seem to cling to cabinet kickplates.
So my prompt for the Nevermores this week was to write a poem about a chore – one that you either abhor or adore. Mine comes from my normally mute baseboards.
Your content goes here. Edit or remove this text inline or in the module Content settings. You can also style every aspect of this content in the module Design settings and even apply custom CSS to this text in the module Advanced settings.
baseboard finds its voice
imagine needing a bathroom an hour ago and you still have fifteen minutes to go
or that itch you can’t scratch in the middle of your back
or bangs hanging limp that prevent a clear view all you want to do is give ‘em a shake
that’s me just a lonely ol’ baseboard
friend of dust bunnies, toe tips and scatter rugs that aren’t very chatty
dying to be dusted
I’m not a lofty chair rail nor elegant console nor a table for elbows
I’m not a shelf holding your lovelies
I get it -I’m infrastructure nobody thinks we have anything to say
like the wood blinds we’re not supposed to complain but –Oh! how I long
for the briefest swipe a mop or stained rag no longer white a dash of Clorox to drown out your sighs –instead I lie mute
between visits from your mother and her wandering eyes
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
image courtesy of Pixaby
I will be your host for next week’s Poetry Friday round up!
If you’re looking for a writing prompt, I’m gathering Christmas wish lists.
Let’s share ours here next week.
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Ha ha, I can so relate to your vacuum wonder and dog hair woes! We got one of those robovacs, and it’s on a timer…7:30 every morning it vacuums the day’s dog off the floor, and it is quite stunning the amount of hair. I love your baseboard poem too! My mother doesn’t notice the baseboards, but I have a dear friend whose standard of cleanliness is far higher than mine…Baseboard does not enjoy her visits. 🙂 Thank you, Patricia! xo
We would need a robovac the size of a Zamboni…
Haha! I love the prose you wrote about your adored new vacuum cleaner paired with the abhored baseboard chore. So funny! I love “Oh! how I long / for the briefest swipe…”
I often “interview” my subjects 🙂
“infrastructure” — what a fun word to use in a poem! 🙂
almost edited that one out, so I’m glad it worked?
I appreciate everything about this, living with a heavy shedder myself. I especially like your punchline, so funny, Patricia!
It’s the little things, right?
“I get it -I’m infrastructure” – haha. And that last line. Love that wry voice–sounds Billy Collins-ish.
Thank you, Laura.
I love this even more now that I know the backstory of your new vacuum!
Seriously, I think we’ve talked more about the vacuum than the grandson…
So much fun in this post! I laughed out loud at this “This is how old I am: We brought home a new vacuum cleaner and we can’t stop talking about it.” and again at the fabulous ending to your poem. You reminded me of the time my husband and I listened to a salesman who cold called on us to pitch a very expensive vacuum cleaner. Apparently, each of us was counting on the other to say the required “NO” to said very persuasive salesman. Spoiler alert–we got a new vacuum! (and a payment plan!) To this day, we shake our heads about it and laugh.
MUST’VE BEEN A KIRBY! I inherited my mother-in-law’s. Kept it for years (saved me thousands of dollars on a gym membership –the thing weighed a TON)
You had me at “hair in the ice cubes.” Ours is not a Bernese, but a big orange long-haired cat, so our volume of hair is perhaps less but definitely just as pervasive. I can’t believe no one has asked — what brand and model of vacuum did you get??? (Asking for my baseboards and the space behind every bookshelf…)
According to my official personal home vacuumer: “Dyson V15 Absolute”
Thoroughly enjoyed reading about your new vacuum cleaner, those dog hairs (laughed at hair in your ice cubes). What fun to hear from the lonely baseboard, too.
They’ll be getting attention this weekend 🙂
I don’t have a dog anymore but remember! And now my son’s family has two Bernese mountain dogs. When they visit, I see more hair for quite a few days after! Love your, “ode?” for the baseboards. Should I be worried? And I love “I get it -I’m infrastructure nobody thinks we have anything to say”. Priceless, Patricia!
Ahhh! My dream: TWO BERNERS!!
Ha! between visits from your mother…too funny!
Don’t we all have that Someone for whom we secretly clean?
I love this so much! And, of course, I love the fact that you love your new vac. 🙂
so scary!
Patricia, this post is hilarious–“think hair in your ice cubes,” we can’t stop talking about the new vacuum cleaner. Personification of normally objects is one of my favorite flavors of poem, and your baseboard has such humble charm–“I get it -I’m infrastructure nobody thinks we have anything to say.” Thanks for the enjoyment!
I traveled to CA this past weekend and found my dog’s hair adhering to balloons I had to blow up for a party = yikes
This poem (and backstory!) suck-ceeded in making me laugh out loud, Patricia! So. Good. 🙂
(I confess, I have a bit of vacuum envy…)
Admission is the first step in overcoming… -wink,wink
LOL, Patricia! These lines are so funny: “This is how old I am” and “We are owned by a 90-pound Bernese Mountain dog. Think: hair in your ice cubes.” I can relate because we have one short haired cat, who seems to have long fur. It seems like we have almost as much cat fur as we did when we had 3cats. We have gas forced air, which seems to take cat fur and blow it round. When I was a kid, we had electric heat with two cats most of the time and I don’t remember cat hair blowing around.
Your poem is hilarious! Love your title and the ending is so good! That was my mother, too. She made my sister and I constantly clean everything that I got tired of cleaning by 16. LOL Great voice in your poem! I love these lines “I get it -I’m infrastructure nobody thinks we have anything to say
like the wood blinds we’re not supposed to complain but –Oh! how I long.” Your post is full of fun and giggles. Just what we all need. Thank you! 🙂