Sonnet to a Secret Slob

April is National Poetry Month. And in honor of this upcoming tradition, I give you:

Your dishes are piled like skyscrapers.
Your sink makes strangers step back.
Rather than bubbles you're content with troubles
From the housekeeping skills that you lack.

Your dust bunnies corral under couches
Creating powdery white filth and light grime.
It's not your quirk to go completely berserk
Because dirt in your home's not a crime.

Your bath wears mold like a parka,
Housing microbes you could never outswim.
Your toilet is frightening; your sink could use brightening.
Your germs sing their own national hymn.

You've owned a Bissell, a Dyson and Hoover
Though your vacuum now hides in the closet.
You once screamed "Oh heck," when your cherished Oreck
Exploded in a cloudy deposit.

Your recycling and garbage are ever growing.
Your refuse overfills each wastebasket.
You'd rather grow bitter than make room for your litter
Or consider to organize, sort, bundle or mask it.

Your laundry's never sorted by colors.
Your whites are often light-pink.
You're nothing but smiles while you're clothes sit in piles
And your dainties linger under your sink.

Your gauchos, white sandals and nude nylons,
Lost scungies, tube socks and shoulder pads,
Your hangers scamper while you dig through your hamper
'Cause your closet's filled with dated doodads.

Your grooming skills are not quite polished.
The wrinkles you wear leave you rancorous.
Your trousers are rumpled and your shirt's clearly crumpled
Some might say that you're ironing-cantankerous.

Your stove-top is covered with drippings
From the dinner you made yesterday.
Your spilled coffee has thickened, the rest leaves you sickened
Your home is a worrisome display.

Your coat is hung from a doorknob.
Your wet towel's strewn on your bed.
You're a cleaning sinner who trips over last night's dinner
While you imagine a tidier home in your head.

While cleaning isn't for all,
It's a necessary task in each home.
Tidy up logically while cleaning ecologically,
And end your piggish syndrome.

Consider the words of this clean freak.
Even though I can rant on and on.
Though I assert you needn't convert
'Cause with effort your mess will be gone.