It’s here, a brown parcel.
Taped at the edges, a box
to do housekeeping duties.
Unwrapped; Bot -1,
okay, it’s a cheaper model.
So, here he is, to dust,
do dishes, clean the carpet,
make the bed; unfortunately
he can’t cook, but as I said
he was “Bargain offer -
discontinued stock line.”
Switched on, he goes about
tasks, so I leave him to it,
with a mind to returning later,
door closed. Amble out the flat
into sunshine’s welcome.
At 7pm the lights aren’t lit,
semi darkness. Strange, the place
a tip, but for the bedroom door ajar
and the moan of a machine,
a couple of empty lager cans
discarded, huddle the doorway.
He’s in there, the vacuum
extension down the bed, whirring!
He switches it off with a smirk,
red eyes turned pink glaze.
I head for the remote.
“Off”
The box, is re-taped up,
minus the “pleading” head,
makes a pleasing thud
down each of the hallway stairs.
(Based on a UK commercial for Australian beer)
