Domestically Challenged

Tears of frustration filled my eyes
So home I went in tatters
And up to her soft bosom curled
Tell mama what’ the matter

I told her of food particles
That would not go away
White blankets that went in the wash
Emerge a dusky grey

Grilled cheese now forever stuck
Inside a frying pan
Wrinkled clothing that come out
Worse off than they began

Iron imprints, buttons melt
Mops dragged forth and back
My once was white linoleum
A deeper shade of black

And despite my best efforts still
The mold and mildew grows
You probably don’t even want
To ask me if I sew

Oh mother am I cursed? diseased?
Or am I just plain odd?
And so my mother fixed me with
A deep and knowing nod

Though I was 30 if a day
She sat me on her knee
And told me of the curse that runs
Deep in our ancestry

A handicap a deficit
A quite sad situation
A seeming lack of household skills
Passed on through generations

From dust on the log cabin walls
To sticky no wax floors
Unfortunate condition that
Appears to have no cure

It seems a lousy hand was dealt
I ask you where’s the fairness
Of this genetic defect which
I write to raise awareness

So as you come into my house
I ask you not to judge
The dirt that lingers on my fridge
The mirror that is smudged

Though no donations will be asked
Don’t say I did not warn ya
But if you truly want to help
The broom is in the corner


Bad Reputation

Did you look at her today?
She thinks she’s all the rage,
It’s really not appropriate,
For someone of her age.

Her manner’s too aggressive,
Her nature unrefined,
She’s too opinionated,
I think she’s out of line.

Her poetry is quite crass,
It’s on the verge of libel,
She serves up frozen dinners,
And does not recycle.

Her wooden floors are not scrubbed,
It really is disgusting,
Her refrigerator’s top,
Needs a thorough dusting.

I’ve never seen them at church,
They probably are pagan,
The latest rumor has it,
They all worship Satan.

And what’s up with her children?
Does she think them rock stars?
They should have history books,
Instead of those guitars.

She should really tweeze those brows,
And straighten out her hair,
What do you think they say behind
Your back when you’re not there?