There’s a song genre that demonstrates the futility of censorship. With the right use of words and inflection, the most ordinary acts can be a thin cover over some more interesting message.
One well known song in this vein is Alberta Hunter’s “My Handy Man” in which she’s apparently singing about all the little things that her man does around the house. It doesn’t take much to realize that she means something entirely different.
My “Cookin’, Cleanin’, and Agitatin’” is something of an answer to “My Handy Man”, the other point of view in the relationship.
Cookin’, Cleanin’, and Agitatin’
copyright 2017 Bob Matlin
Spread your jelly on my toast
Serve it thick, the way I like it most.
Pour your honey on my roll.
Grease my turkey, oil my cloves.
Can I dip my pear in your chocolate?
And put my berries in your bucket?
Will my light screw in your socket?
Does my winder make your clock tick?
Heat my water and make it steam.
Do the agitatin’ in my washing machine.
Plant my sign post in your front yard.
Let’s get to work and I’ll punch your card.
Percolate my coffee, I’ll hold your cup.
You shuck my corn and make it pop.
Give me your crab and I’ll make it stuffed,
Let me put my cream in your puff.
Let’s do some bakin’ and make a cake.
You lick my spoon, I’ll lick your plate.
Use my knife to cut your pie.
Do I like pie? I hope to die?
Will you raise my curtain,
I’ll mow your lawn, dig your dirt ‘n’
Shampoo your rug, unhinge your door,
Plumb your pipes and wax your floor.
We’ll do some cookin’ and do it with soul.
I’ll stir your soup and fill your bowl.
You make the bread and knead my dough,
We’ll let it rise ‘n’ take it slow.
Put me in your hall of fame.
Light my candle and make it flame.
Pour your sugar on my cane,
Squeeze my juice, make it strained.
Let’s set a date to press some wine.
Now let me wind your watch so you come on time.