an ode to clean up day
A dump run is most helpful
when life requires decluttering
and you’ve already filled the bin;
so although the day was dreadful
off my rubbish and I went.
Damp and dingy, nothing dry,
clammy soggy drizzles seep,
puddles soaking ankle deep,
my mood is clouded as the sky:
everything a multiplied factor of gross.
Most times I love the therapy,
pitching trash into the abyss
(bonus if you spook the ibis!)
But such was not my lot today:
the pit was hideously full and reeking.
Punched fair square in the face
by pungency solid as a brick;
gagging, toss it all out quick
and get me out of this vile place.
This is no time to savour kondo principles!
Notwithstanding steady rain,
driving home with windows down
putridity still hanging round.
Will I breathe clean air again?
I can still smell it 5k later…
Desperate for a scorching shower
I paraphrase that scottish play:
Out! Out! dammed stench! I say,
I need some serious cleansing power
Bring on the most robust bath gel.
I have washed and now am clean
From top of head to tippy toes
And yet my fickle inner nose
Still haunts me with a whiff obscene…
Have I really erased it? I’m sure I can still smell it. Maybe a long soak in the tub would do it…
Will I ever be truly purified?