Best Dishrag Poems

Her name was Ethel....(yes, like the gasoline)
She smelled of menthol...(much like Vick's Vaseline)
A long time neighbor, from down the lane
She was married twice...(or was it thrice?)...
A widowed lady, we knew her well

A bit disgruntled, and a bit dismantled
A bit unusual.....a bit disturbed
and most the time,...

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You're a dirty skank whore 
You're a dirty skank whore.  
Skankin' around the neighborhood, 
Everybody knows you're up to no good 
You're a dirty skank whore 
You're a smelly dishrag  
Yeah, you're a smelly dishrag. 
The boys know to go to you 
When...

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Winter morning light filters through lace curtains,
Reaches down, spills onto the corner kitchen sink,
Through east and south facing windows.
The glass jar, the scrub brush and pad in plastic butter dish,
A down-turned, empty yogurt container,
The pink plastic rinse pan
Keep company around the sink's edges.
The dried-out, yellow...

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Shame me hit me with chains 

Train me how to feel sane

Tame me if you think that you can

Hate me if  do you wrong

Treat me like another worthless life

Beat me just as I am use to

Make me scared to come outside

Fake me tell me...

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Remorseless sweaty palms

despite being prescribed glycopyrrolate.

Though the angst riddled psyche of mine crafted youth, long since receded, ebbed in the past, infringement, impingement, and indecent wracking wrath of mental illness, that even as a middle aged mwm of lxiv bold faced roam min times, I...

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I push the tall-legged hard thing next to the water thing, and pick up the blue thing.
It’s sticky, and sudsy, and fun.   I pour it all on the dishrag on the counter, over the carefully washed bottles, over shiny hard things, and some...

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I'm not your tearstained dishrag. 
Will you end your suicide note with a hashtag? 
Just lock me in the metaphysical gulag. 
The real world's too much a drag 
for a ***. 

I am not digestible. 
I am a hunk of pyrite lodged in the 
jejunum...

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Discombobulation thunderously
torments, triumphs, tumults
courtesy deafening,
earsplitting, fracturing...
(think emotional bomb cyclone),
whereby unbearable mental anguish
rents psyche asunder 

into bajillion pieces
singular recourse necessitates
invoking cerebral powers
to engender feeling 
comfortably numb skull,
hence tried and true value accorded

transcendental meditation practice
offering absolutely zero choice
incumbent upon yours truly
to remedy cerebral chaos,
an unpleasant quotidian experience,
whenever...

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I'm afraid
no one loves me
its your fault
let me live with your parents
while you finish school
I can bend their minds
I'm afraid
no one loves me
I went a little crazy
my mother was a dishrag
my father loved the women
now I'm the victim

Oh you're sweet
your long brown hair
and liquid eyes...

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Sweaty Palms – Chronic Woe Renders...
Po' Whet Tick Dampened Curse = A
Worse Fate Than Death!

...of Google I now know sweaty 
palms sports dignified name 
known as palmar hyperhidrosis. 
Here all along (meaning major 
of my roam'n LIX chronological 

hash tagged linkedin orbitz), this 
plague constitutes...

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Discombobulation thunderously
torments, triumphs, tumults
courtesy deafening,
earsplitting, fracturing...
whereby unbearable mental anguish
rents psyche asunder 

into bajillion pieces
singular recourse necessitates
invoking cerebral powers
to engender feeling 
comfortably numb skull,
hence tried and true value accorded

transcendental meditation recourse
offering absolutely zero choice
incumbent upon yours truly
to remedy cerebral chaos,
an unpleasant quotidian experience,
whenever yours truly 

exits...

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Come on in my family, and friends,
let us all work together, as the preparation
begins.
Grab that turkey, and warsh him real good,
better make sure we have plenty of wood.
Fire up the stove, and get it real hot,
sure hope paw got out all the buckshot.
Cut up them...

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Hand Made Things

Small things made my ready hands, giving of themselves and their time. 
Time; their very lives, a measured existence between birth, life and death. 
Forever; He is with you, He is with me, blessings on your house, and family. 

My Aunt taught me...

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unwanted child sitting in a room,
thrown away like a dirty dishrag that's been used
she feels discarded and unwanted 
alone in her room she sits there crying
feeling depressed she thinks about 
killing herself but thinks that's what 
they want me to do. I'm not going to
give...

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Six months gone now since that dark night, I was kitchen-bound for a bite
Hoping I in icebox there a slice of pumpkin pie could score –
While I searched, I heard a ringing, an insistent ding-a-linging,
Louder than my smartphone’s pinging, ringing two times, three times, four.
“Midnight...

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