If the thoughts you have during
a shower are called shower thoughts,
are the thoughts you have
while doing the dishes,
dishwashing thoughts?
If I could have any power in the world,
it would be between
super-speed or flight.
I have always loved the
feeling of the wind on my face,
like the impossible is within reach.
Teleportation is also a great power,
imagine all the jumpscares I could get.
Doing the dishes
and writing a poem at the same time,
is an exercise in patience
for those who live with me,
the combination of my muttering,
running water and half-washed dishes,
is enough to drive any sane person up a wall.
Did I wash that mug,
or is it just suspiciously clean?
I'll wash it anyway;
one can never be too safe.
Lately finishing poems
has been nigh impossible for me,
I think a part of me is terrified that if
the end isn't as good as
or better than the start,
all my blood, sweat, and tears
might have been for nothing.
There must be something in the soap.
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