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I hate to work. I do deplore
each tedious and awful chore.
Inside the house and outside too,
I hate to work. I really do!

I hate to have to mop my floor
and what a nasty wasty chore
to scrub the toilet. Icky poo!
I hate it so much. Don’t you too?

The inside of the oven. OH!
Black crusty junk – I hate it so!
I scrape and scrape that crusty crap.
I might as well just take a nap.

The crap will not come off. Oh my!
I stomp my feet and want to cry.
I look around at all the work
I ought to do but want to shirk.

I have a life; there is no time
for grease and grime, for sludge and slime.
I want to turn and run away
or go downstairs online to play.

So many things I’d rather do -
like sit and write a poem or two.
I want to call a friend and chat
or play with dog, or pet my cat!

I’d even rather pet a mouse
than ever have to clean my house.
I hate to work and though I should,
the truth is that I’m just no good.

No housework talent have I got
When young, I was not too-well taught.
Spots or wrinkles on my clothes -
I cannot even get out those.

My mother LOVED to clean, so she
did all the housework, leaving me
to go outside, play in the sun,
and not come home till she was done!

I only like work in my head.
No broom for me. Give me instead
a pen – the one tool I can wield.
Just let me work inside my field!

I paid a lot to go to school.
To work outside the home is cool!
I want to work if I get paid!
But in my house I need a maid.

Yes, let me work inside my head
and not with fingers that have bled
from kneeling, scraping at the floor!
Each day I hate work more and more.

My funds are low, so on my own
I have to clean my house alone.
TV and popcorn have to wait.
I have to do that work I hate!

March 15, 2019 for Michelle Faulkner's Honoring Dr. Seuss Poetry Contest
(Inspired by his poem: I Love My Job!)
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