Dump-truck Cotton (for Seema) - Feb. 1, 2025

a boring poem would be about

fixing breakfast for fussy dogs

ordering checks for an empty checkbook

laundry of course – the folding part

how I overblow my nose

that tea I made too sweet

the water dump into the fountain

that cries like a baby when it’s thirsty

these mostly mindless chores

turn me dull and lifeless

like cotton in a dump truck

so I look to one friend

a poet who has a knack

for spinning dump-truck cotton

into funny toys and warm scarves

things that make you laugh or applaud

an amazing spinner of the mundane

recycler of the dull and ponderous

an influencer peddling nothing

but life in disguises

making dust into a castle

that stops you

before sweeping away