Sunday, 11 October 2009

Mother Sucker

A rapid vacuum cleaner is on the loose
It used to be tightly stowed away
tucked besides an old wooden broom and
a dusty cardboard box overflowing with old cassettes

Strands of long brown hair caught and twisted in its wheels
the plastic monstrosity rested quietly
back against the daisy patterned wall
Silently biding its time


It would be released into the domestic wild
this feral, fucking crazy sucker
creeps up on you
One minute you’re casually reaching for another sour-cream and onion chip
the next, you’ve got this hoover draining the life out of you

Bits of experiences, hell even a piece of pia mater, swirl
in the glass coffin seated firmly at the centre of the machine
a book of matches from a first date,
drop of sweat from the last make-up fuck,
a dollop of energy that coursed through your veins at the last match,
a stranger’s smile on the commute to work,
all gobbled up and churning inside the belly of this beast

It drains you of color, robs your memories,
shoves two fingers down your throat until chunks and rivers gush
and you lie, like peanut shells on the floor of a rodeo bar in Savannah,
empty, drained, suck bone spanking dry (like dark chocolate marrow)
Stripped, raw and tired
a small skeleton frame shining and singing songs of sweet mercy

A wild, huffing and puffing, insatiable,
vacuum cleaner is on the loose.

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