Standing on an island of dirty clothes
I shall
Since all these scattered papers are like the ocean-dwelling upon this floor
You cannot save me, mother!
I cry from afar
There are legos within these waters that bite like rabid sharks
marbles that roam these seas and scatter quickly if stomped
I look through the can of Pringles and discover an abandoned boat
I cannon my way to that bed
tossing and turning until the sheets cocooned my movements
I cry once more
biting fiercely on the pillow I would use as an oar
watching my mother brooming towards me like a cyclone without mercy
Lightning in her eyes destroying all in her path
I scream in desperation
Retreating my head in these sheets like a defensive baby turtle
She grabbed me and spun me like a yo-yo on a string
and there I lay helpless
But unyielding with tears
- I shall not clean my room!

© Machito