Tuesday, December 21, 2010

x: curdled

it's pretty dirty business
working from 9 to 5
mopping up brain and blood
off the kitchen floors of the formerly rich

you'd think those wives would notice
the sums of money their husbands spent
on diamonds that they never saw a sparkle of
but it's hard to see anything through several bottles of 'scripts

and then five years later into their thirty year old broken marriage
they'll remember a moment that didn't seem quite right
milk it for all of its worth, then dramatically drink the night away
wake up, find that handgun, and send him to heaven's pearly gates

the deed would be messy, what with all the brain bits, hair, and crying
hysterically screaming at the police 'he cheated, do you understand, he cheated'
but they don't care, murder is murder, no matter what the cause
and they'd seal the house off with yellow tape and take the woman away

that's where we come in, with our buckets of lukewarm water
our detergents, our brittle brushes, and mops
checking the house for left-over money and food
while wiping off cops' prints and making the floors look presentable

the job doesn't pay much because after all, we are just maids
but the kicks we get are completely worth the lack of money
the gore, the furniture, and all the ballroom dresses you can put on
and sometimes, we find the killer in the closet, waiting for a chance to run

and then, some of us get offed too
while the rest of us rush back to our trucks
as we watch the murderer jump over hedges
and curse our luck, because we have to work an extra hour

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