Human Filth - Feb 10 2023

 

Human Filth

Feb 10 2023

Cleaning day.

I check

under the couch pillows

I haven't flipped in years.

All three, sagging in the middle

as if they've given up,

and the middle one

with the red wine stain

clearly visible;

yes, its better side.

Lint.

Loose change.

Some playing cards.

The remote I lost

and thought

must have slipped through a crack

in the space/time continuum.

Not to mention mice turds,

mummified

into hard brown pellets

I hastily vacuum up.

The infestation I can't forget.

Lying in bed

hearing furtive pink feet

scurrying overhead

along the ceiling tiles.

Brazen mice

who stopped and stared at me

as if they owned the place;

nocturnal creatures

swanning about in broad daylight,

emboldened

by force of numbers.

And the satisfying snap

of traps

firing-off like cap guns.

The wine

I can't quite recall.

But it probably came in a box,

and was long before

I knew what to do with a spill.

So whatever I did

it just made it worse.

The vacuum whirrrs,

sucking up dust and turds and who-knows-what.

I collect the coins

toss the cards

try the remote.

(Dead battery.)

Then reverse the pillows

as if that will make things new again.

A deep clean, I proudly tell myself

and call it a day,

leaving under the kitchen sink

and behind the toilet bowl

for next time.

     . . . Or the time after that.

I can't be the only one who rarely does more than superficial cleaning.

The mouse infestation is true. I even had one pop up on the armrest of the couch right beside me.

(I now have better taste in wine, though 🙃.)

(White vinegar or dilute bleach, plus a few drops of laundry detergent (or dishwashing soap?))