We love to eat, of course. But why is it hard to clean our plates?

This poem is about the many dishes that we do every day.

Suddenly, that feeling of optimism seemed to evaporate into thin air,

Martha Malone rose from her chair beside the sofa, strode up to the television set rather disgustedly and turned it off, then went to the kitchen.

[draw-matization] If you had your choice of anything, what would you eat for dinner?

Amusing poem about the need to clean the dishes.

A poem in prose form about a schizophrenic doing dishes.

Mini Blues Song 1930s style.

A story about clearing the table and switching placemats.

Dishes Dishes Dishes.