Plumbers
The faucets are dripping
I get so nervous that I can’t stop shaking
It’s like a cold steel dream
I know you can’t stop it
But it’s the mechanical thing
That scares me.
Drip, drip, drip
Is it really that bad
To bring people into my house
I doubt it
But I can’t stand it any longer
Some thick-legged boy will tell me
It was nothing but a pressure valve.
“Really?” I say.
“Ah yea usually takes two days.
By then you got real troubles.”
What kind of troubles is he talking about?
Cancer, the kututra, the heebie-jeebies?
I simply can’t take it.
He slides under the sink
Mumbles something about a saw
And some plumbers tape
Fifteen minutes later I owe him $143.00.
Now that is some kind of tape.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
