Dishwasher Magic Farewell

Dropped off the dishwasher at the tip today

Heavy with Baby no. 1 I got that machine to

Lighten the domestic burden and to

Free me for Very



Like not doing the washing up


365 days times nine

Must be a lot, 3000 perhaps, give or take

Hours, perhaps more

Of a co-creativity,

That hum and splosh,

Swoosh of watery cleanliness so I could bake or

clean or

drive the kids somewhere


Oh, Dishwasher

Your magic was not to free me of the shackles of domesticity

As you can see I am chained by more than just dishes

But to be my friend

A friend in the kitchen you were



The voices of women through time

Arms deep in suds and

Raw hands praying to the Goddess of freedom for

those who were to shackle themselves next in line

I can hear their voices in your rumble


Farewell, as I drive away

Good, beautiful little machine I

Thank you



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