it’s all comfort seeking behavior
when you stop the automaton
for a moment
and think of it
sleeping eating sex drugs social climbing
tread mill running
consuming
consuming
and still more consuming
a great mass
of maslow’s needy children are we
see me
i’m an addict
an anemic ice chewer
and plate washer
it all started at memaw’s house
when i had to stand on a chair to reach the sink
somehow her suggestion of doing the dishes
little hands submerged in dove soap
always dove soap
the smell of it
(now inextricably connected to her)
made everything right
my sensory storm calmed
so now
when life gets dirty
i wash a plate
for ten minutes
faux flow blue pattern
showered
rubbed clockwise by my attentive wash rag
with the white dish soap full of extra emollients
so one feels pampered
as the toil over soil is underway
and maybe it’s a plate that doesn’t even need cleaning
a metaphoric stand-in
comfort seeking indeed
what i’m cleansing
is my soul
