Listen to Marvin read Plumbing
We’ve got this stately, charismatic house,
Where the walls curve to meet textured ceilings.
And three bathrooms—showers, sinks, bowls—carouse
In matching pastel tile—bright, appealing.
But baleful creeping years intrude on pipes—
Three quarters of a century spawn rust—
Calcification (fate’s fruit, over-ripe)
Blocks flow—and antique elegance goes bust.
We’ll have to smash those lovely ancient tiles,
Tear out corroded plumbing, free the flow—
Accept the glaring scars, surrender style—
Acquiesce to age, our enduring foe.
I wouldn’t mourn those rotted pipes, heartsore,
If they were not my own life’s metaphor.
(7/24/11)