So I’m in a garbage crusher and the walls are closing in
Like that classic scene from Star Wars – ‘Well at least we’ll all die thin!’
But this dump is in my kitchen, piles of debris to my chin
And my toddlers are rooting through the contents of the bin
Try to keep on top of the washing up as it swirls beneath my feet
If it did all get compacted it could make the place quite neat
This is not a place for children though they helped create the mess
Need to get us all out quickly, torrent rising with my stress
Then my phone beeps, it’s a message; hope now rises with the tide
It could be another mother who could help us get outside
It says ‘Got no plans this afternoon, I’ve finished all my chores
Too much rain for park again. Shall we all come to yours?’… NO!
The cesspool overwhelms me, any hope has floated on
I wedge my kids up on a ledge and I put my snorkel on. . .
There’s a small creative outlet that I think I could get into; an escape hatch, and a channel for my rage
I leave behind the daily grind and emerge, relieved to find myself right here on this clean and spacious page