Washing Tank

Crisp cotton shirt had developed stains of spilled coffee,
parallel velvet tie was coated with grease,
white spun vests resembled coal tar dustcloth,
flower embossed handkerchief smelt like rotten fish,
massive piles of square bedsheet showed blotches of saffron oil,
a heap of bandages contained liquefied yellow pus,
wrinkle free trousers had fresh traces of sea mud,
infinite pair of woolen socks lay like decayed brown,
triangular head caps were submerged in streaks of violet sweat,
plush upholstery covers showed smudges of wet muddy feet,
the colossal mansion was in a complete mess,
with dirt converging in animosity on every visible piece of clean cloth.

i took bulky amounts of carbolic powder,
several tablets of rough textured soap,
compact biscuits of chemically charged detergent,
blended the concoction of soap and powder granule,
in a deep tank containing crystal ground water,
stirred elastic walls of the solvent with a wooden bat,
creating gargantuan amount of pungent soapy froth,
dissolved the tonnes of soiled dirt cloth,
way down in the dark slimy interiors of my ever reliable hexagonal washing tank

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