First, My Clothes
First, my clothes
an assortment of cacky, tan
and black pants varying in size over the years.
Then my journals,
newspapers I’d published in,
magazines, old radio stands.
Finally, art pencils, watercolor brushes,
gels and printing inks.
I stopped at my poetry books,
then decided it wasn’t worth the chance.
The mold on Love Poems had already turned green.
They laugh when they’re terrified,
and mock when they’re apologizing.
………………………………………………………
My Father’s Shoe Polish Kit
Two pieces of hair cutting comb
so we wouldn’t get split ends.
Toenail clippers, a fingernail file,
one half-squeezed tube of Preparation H,
one full tube of toothpaste,
tampons and minipads to the side.
You can only keep some things so long.
My father’s shoe polish kit
sits in the top of my closet.
Griffin Allwite self-applicator bottle and brush,
the white liquid squeezed out on Easter morning.
Lanolize your shoes with
Esquire Boot Polish.
The Esquire Footman
has the same Kiwi horsehair bristle brush.
I sat on my mother’s bed
and he brushed his shoes back and forth
like a man playing a rough violin.
The smell of saddle soap and black tar still remind me of him.
Bluedragonfly10 