The noise to movement guides a steady hand to turn down the volume.
Living in a clean dry aluminum can, sparsely decorated so’s I can see the bugs and vermin crawl.
Ammonia, bleach and other household cleansers; just the right combination, measured in perfect amounts, will spin my head but rid the house of the funk left behind from previous inhabitors.
Profitable business, cleaning. Professionals eat happily while germs parade upon the blade
Which sliced the bread. A maid can clean mildly in temperate climes, but when sticked with heat and unkempt hair, mildness turns far worse than fair.
Then must I needs to clean my home.
When does a beggar come to dislike baths?
Do you fall into my bed after you’ve wiped your lips with alcohol and placed a proper dressing on your appendage?
Ruddied lips linger in the latent haze, love’s no place in antiseptic days.
Poet's Corner 