Poem: Old Vacuum

In the end you weren’t so good at picking up all the dust,

But watching you leave, that doesn’t seem to matter quite so much.


You were with us, way back then, when we moved into this house,

You helped me when I spilled glitter on the carpet, and when I didn’t want to touch that dead mouse.


Oh sure, you were bulky, and awkward, and you made a lot of noise,

But you made up for with charm what you lacked in efficiency and poise.


And now you’re off to the rubbish dump on the back of my brother’s ute,

With some old exercise equipment, a rusty barbecue, and a bread maker I never used.


If I’d known yesterday’s cleaning would be the last we would share,

I wouldn’t have said the things I did, and I would have tried not to swear.


I wish I hadn’t kicked you so hard I made you break,

Now I’ll never retract your cord again, and watch it slither in like a snake.


This is it, it’s time to go, goodbye my friend, so long—

Down the driveway, to the end of the street, turn the corner, and now you’re gone.



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