I have plasterers in right now, and I had an electrician in yesterday redoing some sockets. Here’s a poem I wrote. Admittedly it wasn’t me doing the rewiring. But I also ask you - what other task can you make into a poem?
Rewiring
by Max Wallis
First, you kill the switch.
The whole house hums
a final shiver then goes quiet.
Somewhere, Alexa stops mid-speech.
Second, you pull back plaster
unravel another’s intentions:
braided wires, logic only
they knew, tucked into a wall out of sight.
Third, you strip
and then, naked, strip the wires bare.
They curl like worms startled by light.
Fourth, you thread together a new life
clean lines, perhaps,
or hurried jambles.
Fifth, you hope:
you believe in current, in spark,
you test the switch.
Everything burns like it’s meant to.
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