the sheets are department store clean
my tub has been cleansed of it’s sins
there are no shameful hairs
lingering in the corner
behind the bathroom door
the place
where we pretend
others don’t notice
lemons have been forced
into every unnatural crevice
a martha stewart
fresh from cupcake prison
level of futility
but a storm is coming
nixon is still dead
the beloved dog of my childhood
along with him
as i long for a time
when bad men had the decency
to not be your father
and wore ski masks with their suits