This poem is inspired by an odd 1990s commercial I saw on Youtube about a once very popular, pink Dyson vacuum cleaner. This is for all the house wives and house husbands who work hard at cleaning!!
I wrote this during a timed exercise for object writing, which involves writing vividly about an object in the room. Let’s see how far my imagination can stretch on this one:
My Vacuum Cleaner
By Rohini Chandra
Oh, suctioning robot on wheels,
How you make me groove
like Mrs. Doubtfire, to my
funky dance on days,
When no one cares to watch.
You are better than Mr. Clean,
On the tiles where
a child’s spilled pasta
will fall again tomorrow.
Whisking away the past
Of fallen parrot feathers,
Cat’s fur, popcorn from
a horror movie, and
Words from last night’s fight.
Oh, how gravity hails all!
-Upon you,- we press
Harshly with the burden
Of stinky feet and furniture,
wet paws, and rubber soles.
No other does it like you.
Not Bissell, nor the Eureka!
Not the bad boy, Dirt Devil.
But the charm of an English accent.
Yes, Dyson and its thousand prototypes..
You are just bagless perfection.
God bless you!
Oh, vortex which cyclones all
Gray debris, dust, lint.
You’re the relentless tractor
Steaming deeply through.
- The bristles who rise,
Anew like tall reed grass
Swaying as feathery plumes,
reflecting a field's gold
On a cool summer day.
They are awakened!
Breathing linen fresh
With my sigh of relief,
Because true happiness
is having a clean carpet.
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