(no subject)
The Vacuum
The vacuum clogged, it told me
Down to the spinner, struggling tight with hair,
stretched dust-bunnies,and an eraser.
All making their ways,
Eagerly, futilely, to the bag.
If thee were more room, or time,
Over the same stain over and back,
The manual sieving, would not so daunting.
Strands strangle my fingers, heating with dust.
My fingers are well in bed with dirt from the vacuum.
I have to clean the machines that clean my dust,
And that makes for smutty palms.
The vacuum clogged, it told me
Down to the spinner, struggling tight with hair,
stretched dust-bunnies,and an eraser.
All making their ways,
Eagerly, futilely, to the bag.
If thee were more room, or time,
Over the same stain over and back,
The manual sieving, would not so daunting.
Strands strangle my fingers, heating with dust.
My fingers are well in bed with dirt from the vacuum.
I have to clean the machines that clean my dust,
And that makes for smutty palms.