obnoxious chunks of dirt
lodged under nails
from crummy fists of yesterday
that shook instead of hands in greeting
now soften down to liquid mud
by tranquil warmth of water
lose their feeble forms
whatever density they’ve clung to
splits and spins away
doomed to the drain
despite the wish of some
to sway around the safe plateau of sink
like lazy pigs stuck in the sty
the patient stream performs with time
unlike inside ascending stems
they’re sucked down to the heavy ground
and buried roughly six feet under
where even worms and maggots
dare to undertake and make a difference
in the world through cordial recycling
the task at hand is cleansing
focus to the water and the pail
each dedicated finger rub dispels
encounters with defiant negligence
then gentle lotions smooth
self-deprecating cracks of skin
that yearn to fill themselves with arid expectations
in heated protest to much deserved moisture
