confessions are self-serving

Tag: relationship

The last wash

I knew
even before I put it on
that there would be strict segregation
on the clothes horse;
it would be too much
to have to pick you away
from me
like gristle out of gap in gum.

I was almost breathless
by the end
of it, looking at your tiny socks
lined like POWs against a church wall
waiting to be shot.

With heavy shoulders
and great effort the last
shirt was hung;

the last of it,
the last of us.

Your Relationship

Yes, it is broken,
but isn’t the world
just a bric-a-brac
of busted parts,
layer on layer
of confused movement, and hashed ideals
unnatural as box hedges clipped
into dinosaurs, dogs,
eyeless waving families?

Look here at this sparrow’s nest,
its splinters of snipped twigs,
cracks of dry leaf,
flakes of moss
and other things
all broken, come together
under fretted brain
and fast heart, perfectly working
until the wind worries it all away.


He walked past a lot of windows. This one made him stop, for a moment, and stare thoughtfully at his shoes, head lightly cocked. Sounds: smashing, scratching, screaming. The comedic slap of flesh meeting flesh. He imagined peas scurrying for cover, one under an armchair, one coming to a rest against an overturned ash tray. Perhaps a table cloth dragged mournfully tight to the floor to act as an improvised tepee (then- no, no one has table cloths anymore). He touched the window to better feel the image. The window was cool. The curtain inside flinched to the touch, and he moved his fingers hurriedly away. He hesitated only a moment before moving his shoes on up the hill.