Poetry



Evelyn Down the Drain

By Dan Cultra



Evelyn finished eating, hopped off the kitchen chair,
ran across the house and up the stairs.
It was bath time, time to wash her hair.

She jumped in the water and splashed about,
kissed the bubbles with a laugh and a shout,
rinsed the dirt and greasy grime right out.

Bath time ended and Dad pulled the drain plug.
Evelyn squeezed rubber ducky one last hug.
Dad waited with a towel on the bathroom rug.

What happened next twisted Dad's brain.
She was in the tub, wet as rain
when Evelyn slipped down the drain.

Dad watched her go with his own eyes.

First her head, then her thighs.
There were no yells, there were no cries.

Pipes twist through the house, through it all.

Was Evelyn inside the wall?
Wedged in a pipe behind the wall?

Dad raced downstairs without a blink.

Then he heard a…CLINK. CLINK. CLINK.
There was Evelyn, in the kitchen sink!

Dad stared and stared at Evelyn.
Then he smiled and that was when
she shouted, "That was fun. Again! Again!"