Written to the prompt F is for Flat
Building A Wardrobe
My uncles came to stay with me when I got my new pad;
They came to do some DIY for which I was quite glad.
They put me up some pantry shelves and stood back with great pride;
I watched as jars and bottles slowly slid down to one side.
I bought a rotary washing line; they knocked it in the ground
At such a weird angle that it couldn’t then go round.
I bought a flat-pack wardrobe, a triple, grey and white;
Between two and four hours, it said, would take to build it right.
They opened up the package, they carried bits upstairs,
They counted out each screw and nut and put aside the spares,
They set about it with a will, they hammered and they screwed,
They knocked in cams and panel pins, they dowelled and they glued.
The wardrobes looked magnificent – no need for me to frown –
I opened up the doors and found they’d built it upside down!
The hanging rails were near my feet; the shelf was near my head.
My uncles’ faces quickly went a shade of deepest red.
They had lunch, then went back upstairs and took it all apart
And made the whole thing over as they had done from the start.
They swore to me they followed the instructions to the letter,
But opening the doors the situation was no better.
The air was blue, the curses flew, my uncles were dismayed:
The thing was upside down again and that’s the way it stayed.
I couldn’t make my uncles build the wardrobes yet again,
And they were getting blisters from their screwdrivers by then.
We unscrewed all the hanging rails and put them back much higher,
And threw the flat-pack wardrobe instructions on the fire.
© Carol Carman 2025
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