Boxes seem to dent the floor     their placement,
a weight that sucks the future in.

So long I’ve waited to wait for the wait,
which will begin any minute now.

These things I’ve dragged across hell’s creation:
detritus abandoned.     Here’s a woman’s hand
that forgot me     and a face I’ve forgotten—
scowling, I’m sure.

It’s so tiring, living. I will need rugs.

What kind of people display fake fruit for guests?
Welcome, and remember the hunger that
            can never be filled.
A face can do the same work without the worry
            of dust.

Here’s a list of three things I’ll fail to do:
enjoy life,
overthrow the government,
record an album of songs about monsters.

If I work very hard and forgo all enjoyment,
someday, I’ll still be broke and miserable
but in a different pair of shoes.

When there’s no change to be had, people
            pretend it’s the janitor’s fault they’ve
            left trash everywhere.

Sometimes, if you throw yourself under the bus,
            the bus drags you home. This is as close
            to a new life as many of us can afford.

Whose turn is it to stack the dishes in the sink?
I’m supposed to tell you to be grateful for having a sink.
Image CreditLuku Muffin

Bio: Raised on a rice and catfish farm in eastern Arkansas, CL Bledsoe is the author of more than twenty books, including the poetry collections Riceland, Trashcans in Love, Grief Bacon, and his newest, Driving Around, Looking in Other People's Windows, as well as his latest novels Goodbye, Mr. Lonely and the forthcoming The Saviors. Bledsoe co-writes the humor blog How to Even, with Michael Gushue located here: His own blog, Not Another TV Dad, is located here: He’s been published in hundreds of journals, newspapers, and websites that you’ve probably never heard of. Bledsoe lives in northern Virginia with his daughter.