01  Mar
my lucy moment

in the corporate apartment
where i was staying
on the left coast
i decided to host
a party
featuring margaritas and beer
nachos and munchies
and loose atmosphere

then in the wee hours
when the guests had departed
and the sky had started
turning to red
i surveyed the mess
and went to bed

imagine my surprise
the following day
when the mess was still there
isn’t that just the way
the cookies and tortilla chips crumble?

so i started cleaning up

the night before
i’d run out of paper plates
and resorted to the not-so-fine china
one associates with temporary digs
not much to begin with
and none left clean
so i put it all
in the small but effective
dishwashing machine

since i wouldn’t be there long
and took most meals out
i had no dishwasher soap
sitting about

“pish and tush”
i thought
“tush and pish
i don’t need soap
made for washer of dish
soap is soap
and only a brow-beaten consumerist dope
would not be aware
that any old soap
would work fine in there
i have more laundry detergent
than i’ll use on this stay”
so i filled the machine
and went on with the day

half an hour later
i passed by the kitchen
and saw soap suds
pouring out of the bottom
of that cleansing machine
oh what a trouble-full, bubble-full scene!
coming up through both sinks
and covering the floor
the suds wouldn’t stop
there were just more and more

“ay-yi-yi, lucy!”
i screamed
in my best desi voice
then reverting to lucy
i had no other choice
but wade into the mess
with no plan of action
not even a guess

i grabbed a sponge
the only possible tool
no mops available
for this transient fool

ran the dishwasher
through “rinse” once more
started sponging up water and suds
from the floor

soaking the sponge
then squeezing it out
soaking and squeezing
squeezing and soaking
soaking and squeezing and soaking
and then
soaking and squeezing
again and again

this went on for a very long time

but i mean

i was terrified desi would come home
and i’d have to cry
“riccckkyyyyyy! waaaaa!
i didn’t mean to do it!”

but i’m not really lucy
i just feel like her
at times like that
when the floor is covered with suds
pouring out of the dishwasher
while erupting from each kitchen sink
and i think
“i must be in some demented 50’s sit-com
cast as the scatter-brained wife
because nobody is this stupid
in real life”

posted by admin on March 1, 2003, at 1:00 am | filed under poetry | no comments »

Leave a Comment

Your comment

Please note: Comment moderation is enabled and may delay your comment. There is no need to resubmit your comment.