Sunday, 2 April 2017

The washing machine

Judders sideways much as a giant crab
might submerge itself in a salty pool
elbowed in by Robin Hood’s Bay rocks washed
by North Sea storms.

Its own storms show a rotting rubber rim,
and a rust Rorschach fronting like an iron lichen.
The washing machine doctor cured it of 

My NaPoWriMo effort for today, inspired by a prompt from Paper Swans Press on FB: Write a poem about a kitchen appliance. This, again, is just the first half.

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