Hoovering Like A Man Poem by Dan Brown

A what?
A hoover?
What do I do with that?
Oh.
You mean that thing I race round the living room?
Yes dear, of course I’ll use it on the stairs.
Do you happen to know if it’s suitably tuned
for such rally-like terrain?
It’s not?
Oh.
What’s that, my love?
I DO move things when I hoover the sitting room!
Apart from myself and the hoover?
Well that’s just silly.
Do they move the marina out of Monaco
for the nice Grand Prix drivers?
No! They just drive round it!
Pfft!
Women!
Useless!