Lament of the Cleaning Lady (for some contest long gone but not forgotten)
|I hates cruddlies! I loathe them! I do!
The cleaning wench screamed out her lungs, black and blue.
Cruddlies are wicked! Cruddlies are foul!
She scrubbled and scraped and she hollered and howled.
First, the smidgeons in kitchens, they stink and they stick.
The way they proliferate just makes me sick!
The glitches and grimeys, and green fuzzy goo.
If you had to clean them, you'd yell at them too!
And then there's those thingies that folks always get.
They call them dust bunnies, as if they're a pet!
They're pests. I detest them! They run from my broom.
They scamper away and hide all through the room!
Ev'ry nook, crack and cranny - just offers them shelter.
While I have to chase them around, helter-skelter.
And what has no name, but is usually called fluff,
it takes me forever to gather the stuff!
But far worst of all, when the house is all clean,
when it's shining and gleaming with shimmering sheen,
all polished and pretty, all cleaned up and neat,
all buffered and brightened and smelling so sweet -
and I'm ready to leave and go out the front door,
when I'm finished and packed and admiring my chore,
there are the cruddlies! All over the floor!
How did they get there? I can't take it no more!
I mopped and I swept, I wiped and I wept,
I polished and vacuumed, and scrubbed, most adept.
I dusted and busted my buns, to be sure!
But for cruddlies, there just isn't any sure cure!
Cruddlies! They're mean and they're bad and they're foul!
I'm shaking my fist and I'm scowling my scowl.
I'm saying goodbye and I'm yelling my yell.
So I'm leaving them! They can all go straight to hell !
'ave a luvly day!
The Cleaning Wench.