The Plumber

Wed, 08/23/2017 - 13:15 -- laurk17

Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

I heard drips from my sink.

So I called you over,

to come and fix the leak.

But it’s been over an hour,

since you hung up the phone.



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

Your voice on the line,

Made it sound like you were more

Of a commercial telemarketer,

Than a man who knew how to fix a pipe.



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

You arrive in your beat up motor bike.

With only a small set of tools,

and a pair of dirty hands.

You look more like a mechanic,

Than someone who can fix my sink.



But do you not see?

It’s overflowing,

With you under its brink.

The cost rises more each given minute,

And you’re just waiting to gain more cents.



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

I see you wear construction shoes,

As if you were an architect.

But instead, you’re stuck here,

Fixing my sink.

Loosening up the pipes,

That are flooding themselves with water.



But you don’t know how to do it.

So you just watch the wet meat rise,

Over the brim of your eyes.

It washes over my counter,

And it takes everything inside of you

To stop yourself from overflowing too.



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

You rush to clean my floor,

As if you were a carpenter.

Seeming to know more about grains

Inside the wood

Than the veins in your hand.



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

I see badges of honor on your arm,

As if you were a soldier

With many battle scars.

You belong on the field,

For you killed many times over.

But only yourself. 



I can tell by the way,

Your eyes glaze over my rusted sink.

The scrapes and dents on the faucet,

Seem too much for you to take. 



Oh, Mr. Plumber man,

You say you’re sweating so much,

Because you’re not used to this amount of work.

But your wheezing lungs contradict your firm attire.

The muscles on your arms,

Got me thinking you were a professional boxer.



But what profession are you?

Fixing my sink in a construction gown,

With the wounds of a soldier

And the voice of a telemarketer.



You’re not a plumber.

Or much of anything at all.

You’re just a man,

Getting by with every penny,

Trying not to fall. 


This poem is about: 
My family


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