Yesterday’s post touched on domesticity and cleaning, so I think this is as good a time as any to post this poem.
Slattern
My laptop
is a messy eater. Each morning
I find tell-tale crisp crumbs
wedged
between its square white teethalongside
cracker fragments and
the improbably orange powder
of industrial snacks.It’s happy
sat atop a take-out pizza box
and olive stones have never yet
upset its equilibrium.It’s anchored
to the desk by coffee rings
and gin-and-tonic lemon juice
has glued the disc drive shut.Pass me
a paper towel and I will wipe
that smear of melted chocolate
from the space bar lip.
Remember: Don’t confuse the narrator with the writer. You may have seen the photo of a dreadfully dirty keyboard the other day, but you should not assume that this poem is in any way based on real life!!
don't confuse the narrator 
