Doing the Dishes

Doing dishes that are made from earth
managing not to return them to earth
managing not to break

everything
oh, everything

There is a certain line holding me
there is a certain thread holding me
there is a plumb line holding me

and it could snap
in rotten teeth

Everything is tired in the snow
there is thunder in the snow
you are out there, in the snow

and here I sit—
I lied about doing the dishes

 

 

If it’s Tuesday p.m., check out Open Link Night at dVerse Poets.

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