Ballad of the Cleansweep Mom

October 18, 2007
By
Mother, mother,
my stuff has disappeared.
Don’t you remember moving it around
Both far and near?

Mother, mother
I know where I put it down.
But now because you moved it,
I’m gonna need a pack of hounds.

You say you never touched it?
You say you let it be?
Well then daddy must’ve moved it,
‘cause it sure wasn’t me!

What? You think I’m just a scatterbrain?
You think I just forget?
You think I’ll find it where I left it,
and blaming you I will regret?

Uh-huh! I see you covering up.
Talk on—until you find,
my sunglasses, iPod, binder and necklace—
which still remains one-of-a-kind.

Ah ha! Ah ha!
Here’s where my iPod lays!
I knew I’d prove you wrong about—hey, wait—
I left it here last Saturday…

My binder’s here!
Set down by…
...me..?

Necklace hanging,
where I recall
wanting it to be…

MOM I AM SORRY
NOW I’M FILLED WITH DREAD,
CAUSE MY SUNGLASSES ARE HERE,
RIGHT ATOP MY HEAD





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