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Dishing Out Advice
Why are there always dishes in the sink?
So lazy and undisciplined. You’d think
they might show just a little more respect
and know that household members will object.
But there they are, just sitting in the way,
with all their dirty pals, as if to say,
“You want us clean? Then wash us! We will shine,
each ivory surface, every blade and tine.
Until you do, we’re staying where we are,
each one of us a faded dinner star.
What will you do for breakfast, by the way?
Go out to eat? It’s wash us or else pay!”
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What to Do When Your
Dishwasher Breaks Down
__To cancel out all that grime,
take on the whole disgusting stack
____by hand, by gosh:
__do items one at a time,
placing them in a drying rack
____after each wash.
____Then merely repeat …
____Ah, don’t be so glum!
____It’s not the last straw,
____not much of a chore—
____till your back is sore,
____your hands getting raw,
____your mind almost numb …
____Please remember,
____each ache’s your receipt.
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Dishes
after the lyrics for “Taking a chance on love,” by
John Latouche and Ted Fetter; music by Vernon Duke
Here I stand again,
about to take command again,
soap rag in hand again:
slave to the rubber gloves.
Now I scrub again,
scraping off all that grub again,
there’s that rub again.
Paper plates I would love.
This mountain I’ll never vanquish:
too lofty, I think;
I’m bound by fate here to languish
before a dish–filled sink.
Same old trope again:
for the damn sponge I grope again,
lost in the soap again,
it’s misery—Dawn or Dove.
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Julian D. Woodruff, who contributes poetry frequently to the Society of Classical Poets, writes poetry and short fiction for children and adults. He recently finished 2020-2021, a poetry collection. A selection of his work can be read at Parody Poetry, Lighten Up Online, Carmina Magazine, and Reedsy.
No doubt, your dishes are very inspirational. 🙂
To a point, Irena. But usually more so when they’re full of food.
Agatha Christie got much of her inspiration doing the washing up. It was her muse.
I’ll never look at the washing up in the same way again, Julian.
No point comparing myself to AC, Paul. But visiting one of my daughters, who has no dishwasher, but 5 kids, the eldest 2 of whom, bless them, turn every dinner into an episode of Survivors, I was “inspired” to think up these. Thanks for reading.
I feel your pain and now I have to go buy more soap! These were fun and unfortunately hit close to my home. For us now unintended bachelor men, why wash some dishes when we are the only ones using the plates, bowls, glasses, and utensils? Just rinse off with water after using. If there are specks left from food, the air will dry it and eliminate the bacteria.
Roy, I do recycle, half-heartedly, but can’t bring myself to reject utterly disposable plates and utensils. I’m also a closet advocate for disposable clothing.
What an observation! I like your clever perspective, Julian. All three poems are delightful and “Dishing Out Advice” is my favourite. Thank you for making me giggle!
Julian, I have come to realise that great poetry can be inspired by the most mundane subjects. I am singing “dishes” to myself which will keep me up all night. An absolutely brilliant trio of fun today. Time to snap on the rubber gloves..Thank you.
Thanks, Jeff. Those dishes in Disney’s Sleeping Beauty were too cooperative even for fantasy. We need to face reality with a clear mind and sleeves rolled up (unfortunately).
Shamik, I don’t resort to personification often, but dishes … Their passive resistance almost begs for such treatment. Thanks for reading.
Good clean fun, Julian. Dishing Out Advice is so relatable, alas!
Clean, eventu-a-lee … at the end, as Manuel (Fawlty Towers) would say. Thanks for reading, Russel.
Your clever, expressive poems have me pondering AGAIN how I, who live alone, manage to mess up a huge pile of dishes
every other day. You have given dish cleaning a noteworthy
status in everyday life. I especially like the last poem.
Thank you–glad you liked them. In a parody, you have to thank the source for any success. Larouche and Fetter were real pros. Listen to Ethel Waters on this song, you’ll see what I mean: https://g.co/kgs/8aFYAt (I hope the link works!)
What a swishing suite of poems, Julian! Even after a total re-model of the kitchen, we manage without one of the mechanical contraptions. First principle is that he or she who cooks does not do dishes. When our children reached dishwashing age (what a concept!), they made deals with one another to spare the willing dishwasher other household chores. The mountain duly disappears daily. Best wishes with yours!
Gad, Margaret! You barely get the kids to eat what’s served, and then you make them do the dishes. You were (are?) a mom to be reckoned with.
Since I reached a height when I could do so,
I would take my turn at the kitchen sink.
But at first, i didn’t have a clue, so
I would tarry till my parents raised a stink.
(But then I tended to tarry in any context, especially homework.)
“What to Do When Your Dishwasher Breaks Down” struck me as an allegory for what to do when your poem breaks down. As such, I appreciated it. I don’t know if others have had the experience of crafting something that just doesn’t work, just falls apart. The dishwasher brain breaks that was sorting and cleaning up all the wordplates, just slumps. Then get back to basics. Fix the poem word at a time, foot at a time, line at a time…
Maybe it’s just me.
Sometimes that works for me, Daniel. Other times I just leave the mess, returning to it when nothing better comes to mind. Other times it just goes down the drain.
Thanks for an interesting perspective!