He likes physics and machines.
As a child, he would ask
to see the household vacuum upon entrance
into the homes of friends and family.
He would flee from his frightened mother
in department stores, only to be found
over in Appliances, bowing to
roaring, sucking beasts
like golden idols.
Now, the proud owner
of a house that comes complete
with cobwebs, cat hair, dust bunnies,
Andrew wields his Dyson like the Sword of Peleus.
Drunk on wine and a HEPA filtration system
he vrooms like a child behind a steering wheel,
laughs with storybook victory, proclaims
to the accursed dust that its days
and I, like a good sport, just smile
and point out new enemy territory.