She stepped across the threshold
Into a land of laundry mountains and
Dishes piled in jagged rocks at the edge
Of a sea of soapy water gone cold
And unfamiliar odors which warred against her senses
She tried not to notice the fresh cut lawn
Creeping in the back door
Or the canopy of webs with polka-dot flies
Which hung gracefully over every window
But the mildew vines growing up the shower curtain
Were just too much.
It wasn’t that the house was dirtier,
It was just someone else’s dirt.
Writer’s Digest 2013 November PAD Chapbook Challenge: Day 6
For today’s prompt, write a poem from the perspective of a person who either works at and/or visits a place you like to visit (that’s not yourself). For instance, a fry chef at the Krusty Krab, a bouncer at a nightclub, waitress at a restaurant, etc.
I’m sure we’ve all been there, visiting someone’s house that isn’t any worse than ours, we just notice it more because it isn’t ours. It’s like they say about the art on your walls, rearrange it occasionally and you’ll notice it again. The above is my impression of what someone else would think of my house. I did exaggerate a *touch*, the mildew is just on the very bottom of my shower curtain, it isn’t growing quiet yet. I need to soak it in vinegar, just haven’t gotten around to it. Like I haven’t gotten around to folding my laundry, or finishing the dishes, or sweeping the kitchen floor… I’ve been too busy painting and making zucchini-crusted quiches. 🙂