Housekeeping Poem by Mary Angela Douglas

you couldnt really call it that.

beating the scorpions out of the mat.

barring the door to the bruin attack.


watching the soddy ceiling cave

with hidden nests the snakes had made

watching the blizzards sweep right in.


and the locusts too. what was it so sustaining you.

how did you fight so tooth and nail

you who came from the leafy east


to face the wilderness in the Beast


who cried because there were no trees anymore.

how did you fight against the dust the whirlwind's sky

the lightning 's lust


the poisoned berries and the musts


that never could slow you down

or else a child might drown

or be stolen by tribes.


Good God the fight you fought just to stay alive.

while making the candles and the soap

and everyone's clothes


nobody knows.


how can we gripe at chores

who merely mop the floors


when every second of your day

keeping the fire and the gloom at bay


drawing the water from the well

you made a home at the mouth of hell.


mary angela douglas 21 april 2020