when I clean.
Last week it was the fridge.
This week it's the closet.
The difference is the food
being thrown out is gross.
While the shirts and pants
are mostly fine aside from fit
and a forgotten fondness.
Taking stock of the shelves,
recycling the wire hangers.
Keeping count of the years
and the dangers down the line.
Wondering will I be
the first of the gang to die?
But Kyle beat me to it,
and I toss the mixed greens, of course.
Debating the Morrissey shirt,
for reasons of regret, both ways.
Windex won't wipe away
these doldrums and dust.