Red is dead,
Green can’t be seen,
Orange is gone, too.
Yellow, fine fellow,
And Purple have failed.
So the last working part of my markers
— sniffle –
— sniffle, sniffle –
are for sale.
When our Toaster refused to even warm bread
we were going to throw it away.
But we changed its name to a Noaster instead.
Now it works perfectly, every day.
It started in our family room,
then into the kitchen it seeped,
taking the front closet and hallway
before up the stairway it creeped.
What once was my bathroom it conquered,
it moved boldly through Mom and Dad’s room,
every space in our place was exploded
by its life-changing clutter kabooms.
It’s been so long ago since it started,
this unyielding advance like no other,
that by now it’s become fact there’s no stopping
the Invasion of Our New Kid Brother.