Heavy Water

I pushed my bathtub 180 degrees from its resting spot.

Soap-stained tiles snapped from the enclosure
as I labored. They hit
me in my left eye,
in the split center of my groin.

I pushed my bathtub this morning, the day
before the change of calendar,

a year I know will require
one bath a day
one bath each evening;

rinse that energy
rinse that energy
rinse it, sunshine, moonshine, morphine, soap queen.

I pushed my bath-rub
pushed my back, track, back track, rubicon,
pushed it perpendicular to every wall I ever met -

the square ones
unsquare ones
ones catered and mated and baited, venerated.

I told the damn thing to stay put, stay 180,
freak of creature
destitute portal,
told it to keep my water, hold it, hold it, hold it

tightwad.

Don't know what it did.

Everything evaporates.

Comments

[Heather Stanworth]

wow! good stuff!

[Birdie]

Thanks so much, Heather. I'm just exorcising devils. Or Avon. Take your pick!