Sunday Poem: “Million Jobs”

 

My toilet got clogged.

Again.

 

Plumber says

he’ll replace the drainage,

install a new bowl.

 

I consult an engineer.

 

He says

a 4-foot pipe

cannot substitute

a 7-foot,

and the new bowl

is far too small

for the task;

the fix will only aggravate the problem.

 

I sign the work order,

hand it to the plumber.

 

His math may be flawed,

but he’s the only one in town

who came up with a plan.

 

By Shai Ben-Shalom

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