Scrubber

Meant to write a different style of poem but i got distracted :p

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1. Scrubber

Cupboard clean-outs
moth pressed suits, sticky-webbed furs
saddled with a dozen
eight legged culprits,
balancing on the strands -
like tight-rope walkers,
looker's on
helplessly bug-eyed at the scene
of desperation below,
“Something must 'ave possessed her”
one milk fang whispered,
“when did she become Hygieia's devoted follower?”
replying with a simplistic shrug
both watched
in marvellous confusion,
at her on fresh knee's
teasing buttercup sponges -
the novice scrubber.

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