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Seriously, a Vacuum Cleaner?

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.

Mrs. Doubtfire doing her "Funky Lady"

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