Tuesday, December 11, 2007

The Grim Cleaner

I am the bringer of death, the reaper of souls
The cleaner of carpet, the mender of holes.

I rise on wings of pure darkness and night
The strong then shall tremble, and cower ‘fore my might
But at home, the life is all sweetness and sour
With my handy dishcloth using lemon-clean power.

My names are Charon, and Kali, and Death
The Charbidis and Scylla, the Last Final Test
But the dishes won’t just do themselves in the blender
And so the air fills with the softest lavender

After that I take to my Hoover most trusted
Whose body is old, broken, battered and crusted
But save it I have from the edge of my scythe
For if I can bring death, so too I give life.

I am the bringer of death, the end of the hill.
But if I don’t clean up around here, no one will.

3 comments:

Nicholas said...

The Grim Sweeper eh?

savante said...

Does that mean you can come and sweep my place grimly?

-C said...

Only if you promise not to make me wear anything embarassing.