katepoet
11-01-2007, 12:00 AM
The Pleasures of Poor Housekeeping
On my wall is a strand of dust covered web-
a grey grasshopper frozen against eggshell white
Under the bed, dust hedgehogs roam and chatter,
occasionally stopping to pose for artwork in a picture book.
My dog's shed hair is everywhere, like water in the ocean,
it covers my floor in short black-and-white tokens of his devotion,
piled up under the radiators and coffee tables in waves.
Dishes in the sink appear to be stacked with intention,
like modern art and spider webs on the chandelier
are reminiscent of the blue and red criss-crossing lines
on a sculpture that stood in a courtyard at the Guggenheim
when I went there with my grandfather many years ago.
On my wall is a strand of dust covered web-
a grey grasshopper frozen against eggshell white
Under the bed, dust hedgehogs roam and chatter,
occasionally stopping to pose for artwork in a picture book.
My dog's shed hair is everywhere, like water in the ocean,
it covers my floor in short black-and-white tokens of his devotion,
piled up under the radiators and coffee tables in waves.
Dishes in the sink appear to be stacked with intention,
like modern art and spider webs on the chandelier
are reminiscent of the blue and red criss-crossing lines
on a sculpture that stood in a courtyard at the Guggenheim
when I went there with my grandfather many years ago.