Blue Work-Shirt
March 21 2009


How many cycles
normal wash, double rinse, warm
reefed out on the line, creaking,
in winter, stiff,
or filled by wind
basking
when the sun’s too close to earth,
when dogs lie panting,
and the vinyl cladding
scalds your fingers,
and brown grass is thirsty for shade
to make
this shirt plush, and perfect?
A blue work-shirt, gently faded,
or red plaid
chamois-soft.

And if we shared a closet,
would you sweep it to one side,
demote it
to a wire hangar,
bequeath it
to a thin creased man
at the Salvation Army shop?

Or would you defer
to a man’s perverse affection
for old friends
for prized possessions,
who accompanied him
against his skin,
breathing-in
his sweat, his scent
all day long,
before he knew your touch?

It can only be washed sparingly, anyway —
gentle cycle, cold.
While you keep him warm
give him cover
enfold him even closer,
button his mouth
with yours.