The Faucet's Revenge

Why would the faucet wreak

such a wicked revenge

on a porcelain tub,

which has already born

in patient, bovine acquiescence

the burden of marbling bums,

the joggle and slosh of jaundiced thighs,

the dirt of the out-of-doors comingled,

becoming one,

with the sweat of toes too long be-socked?

Why add, to the scuff of soap’s scummy dandruff

(arranging time in Mesozoic lines) –

Why add, to the mangled scrabble of hairs

of strangers and Grandmum and once,

at rock bottom,

the family dog –

Why add, to the years of hard labor,

Your unstrained malice of calcium deposit,

O insolent faucet?

  

P.S.

And will it always be like this –

One bears, another one drips?