Ode to the Shop Vac

Ode to the Shop Vac

To thee I dost oweth a millions thanks.
The five gallons of supreme vacumming power.
The invasion of little red asian beetles has begun.
By thousands they crawl out of spaces unknown.
Into the sunlight they bath too stupid to remember
how they arrived.

My only defense,
the high pitched whine
of the big red gun.
With two hands,
googles,
ear plugs,
I plant my feet,
flip the power to on.

The little red shells with six black legs
scurry,
bomb my head,
but I hold firm.
I try not to run or scream,
but gather them into the
five gallon holding tank.

I turn my back and a thousand more approach.
Is it war?
Will we win?

Yea, I do not like material things,
but I can not imagine a farm house without one.
Before your invention,
were humans like the birds in our premature garden-
bathing in the dirt?

Oh, Shop Vac how does thee suck!