I've got cloth napkins, and I mark
the day by that sort of thing. Signifying,
maybe, just something different. My
father use to always use a cloth
handkerchief, which I thought was
disgusting : phlegm and sneeze,
right back in his pocket.
So. no, I never figured that out.
Of course, now it's the last thing
on my mind anyway, and we drown
instead in paper towels and paper
napkins and tissues. What's this
life but a snotty enigma anyway?
All the fuss and why the bother.
Once you're dead, they put a hose
in your groin and feet bottoms,
and pump everything out anyway.
You get buried, dry as a desert.