Laundry List

so much of the domestic round,
the crumbs burnt black, the
bloodied meats shaken over
with salt, the neverending

circle of fortune turning, the
plate spun round while icing
chocolate cake with white ribbons, the
sugar cloying with sweetness,

the too much of it, the fist of
weariness crushing the cerebellum
so as to preclude speech--what
word comes next? I do not know.

powdered bleach and ammonia, preparations
of pine and lavender, the smiling
woman sells them--does she smile
when she uses them? Oh, the dull

domestic round, broken by sleep,
doctor appointments, church services,
putting on a face to face
this world, time passes through the
fingers like sand, like
floor sweepings thrown into the
bin, all the old dreams and
desires, having been neatly labeled,
tied into parcels, they are:

soft to the touch, fragrant, the
turkish towels (a wedding gift),
ribbonsilk bordered, embroidered, too
good to use.....

the hidden luxuries of thought, the
insurrection of letters strung together