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Poetry Directory : Members' Collection
Member: Jphooch  My Profile Contact Me

Smoke goes up, drinks go down. Ain't gonna stop till I'm damn near drown. I'll pay tomorrow with a head that pounds. But as for now let's just get lost and found.

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    Selected Poem
I need a cleaning woman
She's Coming over tomorrow
And Nothing is in its place
I waste my time doing all the stupid shit
I try to erase 3 years of cigarette smoke with 2 dozen candels
I actually funel the wolfshmidt's into a Kettle One Bottle
I rearange My movies and CD'S to promenantly display Tori Amos an When Harry Met Sally, disregarding the fact that these are mere reminants left behind by a previous charade.
I try to clean the bathroom, but I still maintain that there is a genetic defect in the male species that will never clean a shower or tolilet to the sub-atomic level required for the acceptance or approval of a woman.
There are no clean clothes to be found.
And dirty clothes are thrown into closets like gay children.
My room I clean, but not that much,
because there needs to be a certain ammount of clutter and disorder so as not to reveal my sole intention.
But through all of this I constantly forget the little things.
Like dusting, washing the windows, and her name.
Then it hits me, "I need a cleaning woman"
Not one who will clean up after me, but one worth cleaning for.

- Jphooch


Author's Footnote: The sense in me is a neat-freak, it is the artist who's the slob.
 

Submitted: 8/12/2005 Printer Friendly
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