Scrubbing Or, That Our Lives Had Become
cup soapy water bucket bleach
broom stabs sea of stars
white socks -
a squeaky hinge this Groundhog Day
and the plane climbing over
some stain some blot on the concrete to me the same
as the other concrete for miles, yet it's this section
of the Malecón that has been chosen for
soapy water bucket bleach
the conch shell shimmer dulling to the sea wall while the cup falls, like I
have been falling all week not like before though not with the bruises to prove it.
