(photo by James Avery Kayten)
It’s ridiculous I know
and yet, I swear it’s true.
The dishes in my sink do breed
each night at half past two.
I live all alone.
I cook for only one.
I put my dishes in the sink
each night when I am done –
to wash up in the morning
while breakfast’s on the stove.
And yet each morn within my sink
I find a mounting trove
of dishes there- wanting cleaning
filled with muck and goo
I scratch my head and wonder –
it’s like I cooked for two –
or four or five or ten or twelve –
how could I’ve used so many?
Do I snack throughout the night?
It simply was uncanny.
So one night, I yawned
and sauntered off to bed.
But snuck right back and stayed awake –
then turned a little red.
My stainless and
the silverplate
I’m shocked to say –
they fornicate.
Forks with forks, and
spoons with spoons
in Blue Willow’d
soft lagoons.
Prongs and gaps and
curves and ends –
clearly they are
more than friends.
The spoons spooned so voraciously,
they all got stuck together –
and screamed out so flirtatiously
I quickly wondered whether
perhaps indeed that was their goal?
To hold each other close.
That is what life’s about –
to hold what we love most.
Tupperware had Rubbermaid
Right there on her back.
Feeling fresh he nearly popped.
a bit of lunchtime snack.
It started to get crazy
And full on out of hand
When beaters took on chopsticks
while tied with rubber bands.
Then poultry shears I’d bought
From Mr. Wolfgang Puck
Jumped a glass and made a pass
Just to try its luck.
The Pyrex and the china
danced a dance so steamy
It sure fogged up my glasses
with actions lewd and seamy.
Mrs. Potts banged Mr. Pan,
they could have worked in porn.
In fact they banged so loud and long,
no wonder Chip was born.
Soon the sounds all changed.
There was the slightest lull –
I had to get a better look
and found my sink was full
of dishes that were giving birth,
forks and spoons and knives!
There they were! Yes giving birth
to sparkling little lives!
Then they drifted off to sleep
And there I sat amazed.
I wandered back into my bed
Simply shocked and dazed.
I stared up at the ceiling.
I drifted off in thought –
I think the world a wondrous place.
I like it quite a lot.
When morning came I sighed a sigh
and smiled to think that that is why
my dishes pile in disarray.
Love and birth have had their way.
Life is not all tidy neat –
and yet it still seems kind of sweet.
So, that you see is why –
despite my earnest wishes-
my sink keeps getting full
of dirty, dirty dishes.
May 5, 2012
