emily post

My nails have grown too long
They are good for nothing
But getting snagged on loose strings
And leaving blood trails when I scratch.
In New York I don't even have to go outside
for the soot to seep into my nailbeds
I clean them constantly with
folded edges of post-its, pen caps,
my teeth.

Perhaps these are not the ways
of the marrying kind.
Perhaps that is what I"m missing
this gene to keep clean
and to maintain a tidy house
and pristine hygiene.

I don't always wear clean clothes
I pick my nose on a daily basis
and would choose a cigarette
over food, over your sex
if given the options
on side by side plates

I forget to change my sheets
the litter
the trash
I forget to wash the dishes
the toilet
my panties
I forget to shave my legs
my armpits
my toes
I am not good at pretending I am perfect
I do not stand in front of many mirrors
I forget to wax, to watch my weight, to
suck in my gut, to turn down chocolate,
to speak like a lady, to not want to fuck you,
to iron my shirts, to wish you happy birthday
I forget so many things on purpose
but do I always have to be so bothered?

Can't clean hair
some perfume
a good heart
and best intentions
be enough?