Cleaning
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| (Found here) |
they exist in a vacuum, the present
hopelessly wrapped around
the spinning spool like pet hair
whirling in perpetuity. But then,
no doubt the bag grows heavier
with every pass, confirming
our suspicion that yesterday did,
in fact, come to pass, if at the last
so much dust. And equally sure is that
somewhere at the far end of the room
the cord will soon grow tight
like a chest, suddenly yanking from the wall
to drench everything in an uncanny
still. Still, on this drab October
Tuesday in the living room, hope
scoots stubbornly along in front
of things, refusing to be sucked up.
~Luke Harvey
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