a clorox kind of day

it all began with a stove top
then a spot on the counter
then the smell was in her nose
and the day changed

she went into the bathroom
and scrubbed first the sink
then the tub,
next the toilet
and finally the spooky place behind the toilet
the white gleam of porcelain sparkled in her eyes

in the hallway,
she scrubbed the baseboards
freed them of their dust
with a spray and a scrub

another inhalation and
clorox was all she could smell

she looked out the window to the backyard
there seemed to be a brown haze on the inflatable pool
with a little spraying and a little scrubbing
the pool looked new
she took another deep breath

as she was filling the pool,
she noticed some scum on her legs
so she sprayed a little clorox on a rag
and scrubbed
first the right leg
then the left

she saw some dirt on her arm
she scrubbed from wrist to shoulder
left and right
she scrubbed her knees
and elbows
her nose and toes

She scrubbed and scrubbed –
dermis, muscle tissue, skeleton –
until there was nothing left.

the old man who walks his dog every afternoon
noticed the strong odor of something,
“oh, clorox,” he said to no one.


“You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”
C.S. Lewis


~ by hannahcsykes on August 1, 2008.

2 Responses to “a clorox kind of day”

  1. hon, i love this poem!! love the progression of the actions, it’s so slice of life and makes me curious about the person speaking in the poem. what drives her down this chlorox path 🙂

  2. interesting to see, thanks

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