Love Poem for a Sunday Afternoon

 

Love Poem for a Sunday Afternoon

First, undress. Put on worst clothes.
Plus headlamp, gloves, dust mask.
Enter crawlspace. Think not of Hades.

Slither on belly over rat shit. 
Curse plumber for poor design.

With wrench, unscrew cleanout plug. 
Recoil from explosion of black goo 
spraying face, eyeglasses, worst clothes, mask. 
Ignore smell.

Feed metal snake into pipe. Ignore 
phallic thoughts. Keep feeding, 
turning until you feel a breakthrough. 

Pull snake out bringing more disgusting goo. 
Repeat—feed snake, twist, bring out. 

Find cleanout plug that blew ten feet away in 
puddle of black muck. With wrench, reinsert plug. 
Turn it tight. 

Slither out. In driveway blast snake 
with hose water. Blast self. Remove clothes 
before entering house.

Take hot shower. Scrub. Soap generously. 
Watch water swirl around drain, then disappear. 
After shower, get dressed. Or not. 
Tell your love it’s fixed.

…..

First published in Freshwater. Thank you editor John Sheirer.
Yes, that’s me in the photo, just before entering the crawlspace.

Here’s a video from Freshwater of me and the poem: go here for video