Today is going to be the day you notice
hardened crumbs nesting in vertices.
Today you are going to take a damp cloth
to these corners, to sort this filth. Please:
Tell me how buttons burst from blouses
came here, why no one cares about
taking a dirty whisk to eggs or a spatula
still crusty from the batter bowl. Please:
all these remnants of work started,
a business card jammed in a joint,
the ink of words embossed, unread.
Why me? I am a library of things
unaddressed, items neglected
residuals ignored at best most likely
forgotten altogether all the things
not enough to remember but:
not enough to forget.
Written beside Zoe Higgins’ “Ode”
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