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Saturday, 5 August 2017

The Cleaner Comes to Town (poem)

Every Sunday, bright as a buzzard
The cleaner comes to town
Here and there, from dusk till dawn
She goes wearing a frown
Scrounges of crumbs from the night before
Splashes of dirt on yonder door
Tides of water to flourish and mop
The cleaner scrubs them down
Mutters of growls sneak on the warpath
Scalpel polished ready to spike
Those pesky kids that blast the night
With their greasy stubby hands
Hustle and bustle from room to room
Ready to swish, all set to groom
Make way, ladies and gentlemen please
The cleaner is in town.


5th May 2015

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