Sitting, watching American Splendor on the tube,
I lean my head on my hand. Comfortable.
Breathing naturally brings in the scent
of the laundry detergent residing on my knuckles.

Instantly, I am on the beach. Laying on my stomach
I push on the beach towel at the head to mold
a space for the protrusions of my face to allow
a luxurious and breathable rest and tan.

As I place my face gently onto the towel
I breathe in a sweet smell the closet of winter
has not stolen. The cleanly towel smell
reminds me of the beach until I open my eyes.

The movie continues and Harvey converses with
a woman from his college days. They are at both ends
of life's spectrum, wanting what each already
disdains. I find humor in this irony.

I realize the smell has diffused into my skin.
Missing the fuzzy feeling in my stomach, I turn
away my attention and walk to the laundry room.
I open the cap and rub the pour spout. Rapture!

It is 2am. Laundry is nearly done. I watch until
the movie is complete. It seems that movie viewing
is the only thing I manage to finish these days.
Comical the rigid clarity nighttime brings.

I reach again, to open the bottle cap of the detergent.
The inside of my pointer finger once again enjoys silk.
Yet it enters a cut on my finger, stinging me.
Just like life. Bring me back to reality.

01/07/2005

Posted on 03/31/2005
Copyright © 2026 Jeffrey Parren