Bathtime

Time for a bath...

Swirling spiral drain, spun round,
held by porcelain boulders.
Dammed by barriers,
of shinning glass.

 

Waterfall fabrics
shading darkened rooms
of singing and cleaning,
to old towels soaking
the flood water below.

 

Cleansing folly plastics,
lined by silver taps
spun in motion
by the weather man.

 

Out. The storm.
In. The drought.
Left. The boil.
Right. The blizzard.

 

All held in silence
waiting for the surge
of electric curlers...

SHOCK!

Reviews

[Shannon K.]

Hmm...I like it.
What I don't like: porcelain boulders, 4th stanza
What I like: Waterfall fabrics, everything other than what I said I didn't like.
I think I'm confused. You make this bathroom seem like, normal, but maybe above normal. I'm thinking this because you say silver, curlers, I don't know, just get a sense of really nice bathroom. But then you throw in old towels. I'm picturing nice, new towels in this bathroom. Oh well, It's still good.
S.k.

[Kevin Connolly]

That's funny stuff, Michael. Water and electric curlers don't go together too well... as I once told an old girlfriend, God rest her soul.

[Carol]

a bizzare and completely shocking poem, could never have seen the ending. chilling!

[Shawna Johnson]

Niiiiiice. A completely unexpected ending. Though I would more likely see an man and a radio than a woman and curlers, but that's just my sick tendencies coming to the forefront! You put so much into so few words that it puts the more verbose to shame. Bravo, my friend.

[Debra J. Gordon]

This is more than 'pretty good' so my vote is 5-stars! Hitchcock doesn't have anything on you Michael. I'm switching to showers. Errrriiiiieeeeeee and brrriiiiiiiliant.

[Creepy Swine Guy]

Are you Alfred Hitchcock's long lost child?

Sheesh.

Forgive me if I keep you in front of me (Hehehehe)

[Ilene M.W. Lush]

brilliant.