On Saturday Poem by Ben Partenay

on Saturday I checked the
posts on my webpage
on saturday I pushed laundry into
the machine and watched it spin
and spin and spin
on saturday three people
read two of my poems,
none of them
were about laundry

that night
I slept without sheets
while the blue canvas of my bed
hung drying over white banisters and
in a dream i almost had
you were next to me, you were
telling me about how looking
through different colored glasses
changes your mood
and something else
about how space doesn't matter
you wrinkled your nose
you blinked twice
in my head i was
already washing the sheets again

on sunday I made two cups of coffee
I remembered smelling coffee as a kid
and how pops always made too much
and afternoons often smelled like burnt coffee
from him forgetting to pull the plug
on sunday i made toast
and thought about how quickly
scents become memories, I thought about how
the small room off the kitchen
smelled like burnt coffee
when I left for school
when I couldn't sleep at night
when I left for good
when I came back 3 years later for christmas
when the bank came and took the house
there was always burnt coffee
and me always forgetting to
pull the plug

on sunday i put the sheets back in the machine
on sunday i ran my hands through them and still
smelled you on them
I thought about burnt coffee and how I couldn't
drink coffee for years after the house was gone
I thought about how many times I would have to
wash these sheets to sleep
or almost sleep
or almost dream
or maybe my heart
is still too soft
from not enough sun