A Poem About a Genie Vacuum Cleaner

I always felt like writing a poem as a blog entry.  Strange idea, yes, but it's something I just wanted to do this time around.

In the future, will human beings have legitimate, intimate relationships with household appliances?  Sure, it sounds like an absurd idea, but in this consumer age, there's a lot of absurd stuff going on.  We could be heading down that road  Anyway, here's my poem.  The idea is pretty clear: a man professing his love to his Genie vacuum cleaner.  Enjoy:

My girl's in the locked trunk

sleeping on the cardboard

and snug in her plastic gown,

polished and factory checked

on her way to home

The girl named Genie

is the girl who truly knows me

There is no perfect girl

made outside the skin

Perfection is born in the factory

Genie's all receptive

plugged into the socket

She's humming to the floor

a drone I've known for years

Rambling on and on goes Genie

Genie is my interpreter

of muscling thoughts and vibes

surging through my openings

and living in the cleaning

of fibers in a day repeated twice

Genie cannot make a baby,

but who needs the family

when all you've got is Genie?

Worth more than baby boys and girls

is Genie at $80.55

I will dread the day

when Genie catches fire

to the halting of her motor

and the fade out of her drones,

the dimming of her lights

Hello, my Genie

Farewell, Genie, my love

(source: icollector.com)