I’m a poet, not a f*cking housecleaner

I’m dedicating this poem to all parents out there – especially Moms – who find ourselves with so much work to do, inside and outside of the home. It’s hard to give ourselves permission (and since when do we need f*cking permission?!)  to do the things we really want, the things our souls need. To be able to just say no — just let the dishes sit there for a while, let the phone or the mail or the errand wait — and do what our hearts desire. George Carlin’s dirty words somehow catapulted me into being able to say “That Shit can wait” today — for the few minutes it took me to write this poem, and some time after. Can I get a hell yeah? 😉 So, thanks to Michael over at Toads (who posted the writing prompt I’m responding to) and to George for the laughs and the inspiration.


I’m a poet, not a f*cking housecleaner

Midway to the door, notebook & pen in hand
I stop.
Laundry sits, shirts and trousers and socks and underwear
in a mixed pile, floor littered with breakfast crumbs.
Mail strewn on the desk, legos and stuffed animals in the hall.

So what? I think. “So What.” I say it out loud.
“That Shit can wait.” Tastes good on my tongue.

Today, I’m going to write
and not feel sorry about it.
Nope. Not for one Motherf*cking minute.
“Did you hear that?” I tell the powder & navy blue school shirts,
the muffin crumbs, the sticky counters, the block towers.
“I’m going to write.”

I put the kettle on, step out into the sunshine
in my comfy yoga pants and too-big t-shirt
hair freshly washed, messy curls
falling around my face
no make-up, no shoes.
Acoustic guitar tunes on my stereo
I turn the dial up loud
laughing, that might Piss off the neighbors
but the moment feels too good, so I ignore the voice in my head
that tells me to stop, turn it down, go back in and do something else
“F*ck off.” I say out loud. “This is what I’m doing.”

Sitting in the sunshine, just me and my pen
writing dirty words
washing me clean
opening my soul.

Copyright May 20 2016 Stacie Eirich 

Here’s George Carlin’s video that inspired the writing prompt today over at Imaginary Garden with Real Toads. It’s hilarious and will give you many laughs to start off your weekend with! Have a great one.


11 thoughts on “I’m a poet, not a f*cking housecleaner”

  1. From your lips to the Goddess's ears, girl! I would never have written a word if I'd put housecleaning first. I'd have a neat house, no poems, and…I'd be my mother!

  2. "Sitting in the sunshine, just me and my pen writing dirty words washing me clean opening my soul."

    So much love for that ending. And good for you. I like the way you rock just a few of your roles. Can't wait to read about more of them, and about the many faces of Stacie.

  3. I am on my feet applauding. And let me tell you something I WISH someone had told me loud enough for me to hear it when I was at that stage of life (single mom of four kids, I jotted a poem in spare minutes, but always felt badly that I was not writing regularly)……..write the poems, write often, let things wait, there will always be More…..and……keep a journal – of the crazy/funny/sad/wonderful moments. You think you will remember, but there is SO MUCH, and we forget. How I wish now I could look back at pages from those years, with the funny, the sad, the all-of-it………..and I also wish I had sat at my Grandma's knee and written down all her stories. Sigh. Shoulda woulda coulda….but YOU can! Smiles. GREAT poem. At the end of your life, you wont remember how many loads of laundry you did – but you can READ the poems you wrote.

  4. Nicely written, Stacie. I also do housework, vacuuming and bath cleanup are my specialties. Unload the dishwasher but are "unqualified and unteachable" with the loading portion. Unless I sneak it in while Mrs. Jim is playing bridge or golf with her buds. When she is home she is the "house boss." Oh yes, I'd my own laundry but my methods are unacceptable for towels or any of her stuff, except of golf socks.
    I do put off 'things' for 'poems' and blogging. Gets me in trouble sometimes, but mostly I smile, listen, and say that I am about to finish up.

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