Today was
Reclaim Your Linen Cupboard Day.
With the steely eye
and steady hand
of an archer
I took aim at the target.
Armed with
a quiver-full of black plastic garbage bags
I began my assault
on fifteen years of married manchester.
Air-hardened towels with thousand-bath histories.
Quilt covers
shrouding tainted lust
and faded passions.
Tablecloths and napkins
in unopened packages
spoke of dinner parties yet to happen.
Pillow cases
where your head lay
(but not with mine) .
And hidden behind a baby blanket,
old photos of a wife’s affair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don't know... something didn't feel right about the poem. I could never truly bring myself to like it. Sorry ><.