A Poem for Plumbers by Tony Gruenewald

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A Poem for Plumbers
by
Tony Gruenewald

I am impotent

lost in the labyrinth

of plumbing that plagues

my existence. Pipe wrenches,

washers, teflon tape,

all rendered useless,

their inventions voided

by my uncouth hands.

For the god of domesticated

water mocks me or at best

does not consider my

petitions and prayers: valves forever

frozen open or shut, whichever

is least desirable, threads eternally

crossed or stripped, faucet leaks

reverberating like 3 a.m. thunder.

Ecstasy is:

the number of an honest

plumber; one whose sympathetic

touch can sooth the savage

sweat of my sickly

pipes and spigots

and whose smile

won’t seem patronizing

after reviewing the results

of my humiliating attempts

to perform an act

of plumbing.

This poem first appeared in Edison Literary Review.
Used here with the author’s permission.

Tony Gruenewald lives in New Jersey, where he works as production administrator for Learning Ally, the nation's largest library for accessible textbooks and educational material for people who are blind or visually impaired or have a print disability such as dyslexia. His collection, The Secret History of New Jersey, was published by Northwind in 2009. Tony's poems have been seen in Edison Literary Review, Mas Tequila Review, U.S. 1 Worksheets, English Journal, The New York Times, and Slow Trains. Learn more about him at tonygruenewald.com.

Wilda Morris:
Sometimes an over-dose (our-pouring) of alliteration is just what a poem needs to be perfect - this is a good example of that!
Posted 01/20/2015 09:14 AM

msruff:
It's amazing where a fascinating poem can spring from (pun intended). Well done.
Posted 01/17/2015 10:17 AM

cork:
Why do my hot and cold faucets both turn on inwards?
Posted 01/17/2015 08:38 AM

Ross Kightly:
Only those Admitted to the Inner Sanctum of Initiates Into the Mysteries of the Lead must ever try to do plumbing! As this marvellously true poem amply illustrates! Thanks to all concerned.
Posted 01/17/2015 03:06 AM

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