Turn on a tap
And what do you get?
A rush of cold water
And soaking wet.
Flushing the toilet
Having a bath
Doing the laundry
A privileged path-
A very particular predilection
And one I barely ever question,
Having machines to do the work
That I would otherwise idly shirk,
Taking hygiene so much for granted
Manual labour long supplanted:
Wistful memories,
Romantic notions
Ancestral tales of daily ablutions…
News footage telling of half the planet
Collecting their water and carrying it-
Every drop a privileged gift
The Western World can so easily dismiss.
We even buy the stuff in bottles
Taken for granted, though arguably immoral,
Shrouded in plastic, not sipped from a glass
Kidding ourselves this somehow has class.






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