There she goes cleaning the bathroom
Bending and spraying and wiping away
Grease falls from the tiles the sink
The warm water shower washes it away
Before this she was hoovering, tidying
polishing, picking up pieces
Like foraging, gleaning, until the carpet
furrows were clear
Until the fallow field could be left
Til next year
Farmer girl in the house
Keeping home, keeping mum
Keeping the mouse
And the tiger together at bay
Keeping order in that Sunday way
Meanwhile I was washing up
Just wiping the dirt, squeezing
The bottle
Squirting the liquid, herding the bubbles
In and out of every corner of the corrugated
Plastic lunch box
Around the sides of cooking pans
Up the walls of the stainless steel sink
That had turned orange with Bolognaise
And arranging the clean orderly utensils
And containers, in their rack to dry
It is the least I can do
And honestly also the most too
Right now with my knee.
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